


The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

by Chocolatequeen



Series: Being To Timelessness [4]
Category: Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Wolf Rose Tyler, Christmas, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: 2007 Xmas Voyage of the Damned, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Married Couple, Minisode: Time Crash, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Telepathic Bond, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 19:56:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8681368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chocolatequeen/pseuds/Chocolatequeen
Summary: The Doctor and Rose made it through a year of the Master's hospitality, and now they're ready to get back to their old life--travelling the universe, and finding the trouble that's just the bits in between. Or at least they think they are. A disastrous voyage on the Titanic shows them that they aren't quite as healed as they've been claiming to be.





	1. Misadventures in Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is the Voyage of the Damned story for the Being to Timelessness 'verse. Of course, it begins with an accident on the TARDIS and a very unique meeting...

“Ah!” The Doctor’s head popped out from underneath the console, his hair an absolute mess and a smudge of grease on his nose. “Done, finally!”

Rose put a bookmark in the romance novel she’d picked up when the TARDIS repairs had exceeded her skill level and jumped to her feet. “Really?” she asked, running her fingers over the console. “We’re ready to fly again?”

After throwing away the Master’s ring, they’d done a diagnostic report on the TARDIS, and the results had been sobering, to say the least. With the exception of life support and heating and cooling, every system on the ship had needed an overhaul. It was a miracle they’d managed the few trips they’d taken without incident. So, they’d been in orbit around the supernova for two weeks, trying to get all the work done. Floating in the Vortex would have been better, but she was in such bad shape, they didn’t dare attempt even that small jump.

“Yep!” The Doctor bounced lightly on his toes, a broad grin on his face. “Ready to travel again, Rose Tyler?”

Rose reached up and smoothed the Doctor’s hair down, then used the rag on the console to wipe the grease off his face. “Ready,” she confirmed.

“I’m just going to take us into the Vortex first,” the Doctor said as he adjusted the controls. “We’ll see how she responds to that, and then recalibrate if necessary.”

Excitement hummed through Rose’s veins as she watched the Doctor work. Sitting still had its benefits, but after a full year in one place, two weeks of repairs had seemed endless. She was ready to see alien planets again.

The Doctor rested his hand on the dematerialisation lever, an irrepressible smile on his face. “Together?” he suggested.

Rose laughed and danced over to put her hand on top of his. “Together,” she agreed, and they threw the lever.

A band tightened around Rose’s chest as soon as they did, telling her more clearly than the alarm blaring through the room that something was wrong. The TARDIS shuddered violently as she met resistance in her attempt to take them into the Vortex, and Rose fell to the floor, narrowly missing the railing.

When the movement stopped, she pushed herself upright and leaned against a strut. _What was that all about, dear?_ she asked, patting the grating.

The Doctor was in front of her a second later, running his hands over her arms. “Rose! Are you hurt, love?”

Rose blinked at him, then realised he could feel the TARDIS’ discomfort echoing through her, and thought she’d been injured. She grabbed his hand and pressed a kiss to it. “I’m fine, Doctor,” she told him, sending calm over the bond as she did. “Just sort of a dull ache in my chest—there’s something wrong with the TARDIS. Why don’t you take care of her?”

The muscle in his jaw twitched, but after a moment, he nodded and jumped back up. “What was all that about, eh?” he asked as he circled the console. He knocked on the time rotor. “What’s your problem?”

There was a strange echo in the emotions Rose was picking up from him, and she understood why a moment later when a man dressed in cricket whites came into view, also talking to the TARDIS.

“Right, just settle down now,” the other Doctor said.

Rose bit her lip to keep from laughing as the two Doctors bumped into each other and barely noticed.

“So sorry,” the other Doctor said absently.

Her Doctor finally looked up at that. “What?” he asked, his stunned recognition telling Rose that this was a past version of himself.

“What?” the other Doctor repeated, sounding much more clueless, and not a little offended.

The pinstriped Doctor stepped nose-to-nose with his past self. “What!”

“Who are you?” the other Doctor demanded.

Giddy excitement coursed over the bond (along with absolute bafflement from the other Doctor), and Rose waited for his babbling to start.

“Oh, brilliant,” her pinstriped Doctor breathed, shaking his head and eyeing the hat his past self wore. “I mean, totally wrong. Big emergency, universe goes bang in five minutes, but, brilliant.”

The cricket-y Doctor was completely irritated now. Rose watched as he sighed deeply and tried to take a somewhat intimidating stance—though it was hard to intimidate yourself.

“I’m the Doctor,” he claimed irritably. “Who are you?”

Rose’s Doctor just beamed at him. “Yes, you are. You are the Doctor.”

The blond Doctor pursed his lips together and shook his head. “Yes, I am. I’m the Doctor.”

Rose supposed she could have pointed out the younger Doctor’s growing annoyance to her Doctor, but apart from the fact that she knew they were perfectly safe, it was too much fun to watch.

“Oh, good for you, Doctor.” The pinstriped Doctor’s head bobbed up and down a few times. “Good for brilliant old you.”

“Is there something wrong with you?” the other Doctor asked, his nostrils flaring.

Rose couldn’t hold her laughter in any longer, and both Doctors turned to look at her. Her Doctor pulled her to her feet while the younger Doctor gaped at the two of them.

“Oh, look Rose,” the Doctor said, lacing his fingers through hers. “The frowny face. I remember that one!”

“Hello, Doctor,” Rose said, holding her hand out.

The younger Doctor took it automatically, his blue eyes widening as he looked her up and down. “You’re… Rose! But that means…” He turned to the pinstriped Doctor. “I take it you’re me.”

The Doctor nodded. “Yep, I’m you a few centuries after where you are now. But never mind that. Look at you! The coat, the cricket-y cricket stuff…” His voice trailed off for a moment and the enthusiasm in his smile disappeared. “The stick of celery,” he concluded sheepishly.

Rose stifled a laugh, and her Doctor elbowed her in the side. _Oi. No laughing at my fashion choices. Besides, you liked the scarf just fine, and what’s a stalk of celery compared to that striped menace?_

To the other Doctor, he said, “Yeah. Brave choice, celery, but fair play to you. Not a lot of men can carry off a decorative vegetable.”

The younger Doctor took his hat off and looked at Rose, an aggrieved expression on his face. “Rose, do I always go on like this, ranting about every single thing that happens to be in front of me?”

Rose pressed her lips together, but couldn’t hide her smile. “I’m afraid so, Doctor.” She tilted her head and looked at both versions of her bond mate. “Wait a minute, how do you know who I am?”

His eyes twinkled. “If there’s one person in the universe I will always recognise on sight, Rose Tyler, it’s you.” The pinstriped Doctor grunted in annoyance, and the younger Doctor took her hand and pressed a kiss to it. “I might not always recognise myself, or other friends, but a bond couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.”

“But have we met before?”

“That would be telling, my dear.”

But there was a warmth and familiarity in his smile and the way he held her hand that said the answer was yes, and Rose suddenly found herself looking forward to meeting the Doctor in his past incarnations.

She stepped towards him and straightened the lapels of his jacket, then adjusted the celery so it lay flat. “You know, I happen to think the celery is the perfect final touch for this outfit.” The Doctor behind her huffed in annoyance, but the younger Doctor’s eyes lit up, and he kissed her hand once more.  

Then he stepped back and looked up at the ceiling before frowning at the current Doctor. “What have you done to my TARDIS? You’ve changed the desktop theme, haven’t you? What’s this one, coral?”

“I love it,” Rose interjected, before they could disintegrate into an argument.

The younger Doctor smiled at her and pull a pair of glasses out of his pocket. “Well, if you like it…”

“Oh, and out they come, the brainy specs.” The current Doctor snorted derisively. “You don’t even need them. You just think they make you look a bit clever.”

Rose raised her eyebrows at her Doctor. _You’ve got no room to talk there,_ she pointed out, and the tips of his ears turned red as an alarm started up again.

“That’s an alert, level five, indicating a temporal collision,” the younger Doctor said. He took his glasses off as he turned the alarm off, all humour gone from his face. “Our TARDISes have merged… two time zones at the heart of the TARDIS.”

_The heart of the TARDIS._ Rose and her Doctor exchanged a glance; that explained her discomfort.

The younger Doctor continued, apparently not aware of their silent conversation. “That’s a paradox that could blow a hole in the space-time continuum the size of…” The pinstriped Doctor turned the monitor to so he could read the display, and the younger Doctor made a face. “Well, actually, the exact size of Belgium. That’s a bit undramatic, isn’t it? Belgium?”

The pinstriped Doctor pulled his sonic screwdriver out and offered it to his former self. “Need this?”

“No, I’m fine.” The younger Doctor bent over and started typing a command into the TARDIS terminal.

Rose’s Doctor rolled his eyes as he put the sonic back in his pocket. “Oh no, of course, you liked to go hands free, didn’t you? Like, ‘Hey, I’m the Doctor. I can save the universe using a kettle and some string. And look at me, I’m wearing a vegetable.’”

The TARDIS hummed weakly, and Rose rocked slightly on her feet as the ship’s pain washed over her. The two Doctors started bickering over who knew better how to fix the TARDIS, but Rose ignored them and turned to the console.

_Tell me what to do, dear,_ she said, moving from one control panel to the next as the TARDIS directed her steps. Halfway through, Rose realised what they were doing and balked. _That’ll blow you up._ But the ship insisted, tolling the cloister bell to remind Rose that they didn’t have much time left.

That finally got the attention of the two Doctors. They stopped arguing mid-sentence to stare up at the ceiling.

“The cloister bell!” the younger one said. He jumped into action, throwing levers to stop the black hole from consuming the TARDIS.

The older one looked at Rose, a proud grin on his face. “Oh, don’t worry about it, Doctor,” he said, following his previous self around the ship. “Rose has things well in hand.”

“In a minute we’re going to create a black hole strong enough to swallow the entire universe!”

Rose raised an eyebrow at her Doctor, and he tugged on his earlobe. “Yeah, that’s our fault, actually. We were rebuilding the TARDIS, forgot to put the shields back up. Your TARDIS and our TARDIS, well the same TARDIS at different points in its own time stream collided and whoo, there you go—end of the universe, butterfingers. But don’t worry, I know exactly how this all works out. Watch.”

He nodded at Rose, and she wiggled her fingers before diving for the next control.

“Venting the thermobuffer, flooring the helmic regulator, and, for maximum effect, let’s fry those Zeiton crystals.”

“She’ll blow up the TARDIS,” the younger Doctor gasped.

He lunged for her, but the older Doctor grabbed him by the elbow. “No, she won’t. Just watch.”

White light flooded the console room, and when it faded, Rose knew immediately that things were back to rights. The band around her chest had loosened, and she could draw a breath without pain.

The younger Doctor had been braced for the explosion, and he straightened slowly, looking around the TARDIS like he was surprised to still be there. “Supernova and black hole at the exact same instant.”

The pinstriped Doctor nodded, a wide grin on his face. “The explosion cancels out the implosion.”

Rose smiled at both of them. “Pressure remains constant.”

“You’re brilliant,” her Doctor said, picking her up and swinging her around before setting her back down again.

“Far too brilliant,” the younger Doctor agreed. “I’ve never met anyone else who could fly the TARDIS like that.”

They both looked at Rose with stars in their eyes. She blushed and pushed a strand of hair back over her ear.

“That’s Rose,” her Doctor said matter-of-factly.

“You didn’t have time to work all that out,” the younger Doctor said. “Even I couldn’t do it.”

Rose shook her head. “I didn’t need to work it out. The TARDIS, she told me what to do.”

Rose’s Doctor patted the time rotor. “Rose and the TARDIS have a very special relationship,” he said. “It’s hard to explain, but the benefits are obvious.”

The younger Doctor looked skeptical, but eventually, he shrugged. “But what about you?” he challenged, looking at his future self. “You knew what was going to happen, too.” Understanding dawned a moment later. “You remembered being me watching Rose doing that. You already knew what she was going to do because I saw her do it.”

The pinstriped Doctor nodded, but didn’t have time to answer before a different alert echoed through the console room. He backed up a few paces and turned a dial to keep their TARDIS stable.

“Right,” he said, “TARDISes are separating. Sorry, Doctor; time’s up. Back to long ago.” He looked up from the controls and peered around the time rotor at the younger Doctor, who was still staring at Rose in awe. “Where are you now? Nyssa and Tegan? Cybermen and Mara and Time Lords in funny hats?”

“Yes, that’s my life in a nutshell,” the younger Doctor agreed. “I’d ask how you knew all of that, but since you were once me, I think I can guess.”

Rose felt a pang when he started to fade. They couldn’t travel with the Doctor’s past self—she knew that. But she had liked having him here, just for a few minutes.

“Oh, I seem to be off,” the younger Doctor said. He looked at Rose. “I wish I didn’t have to forget you again, my dear.”

“I’ll be waiting for you, Doctor.”

“Until we meet again.”

The Doctor looked at Rose, feeling her melancholy at letting go of this younger version of him. Then he spotted the previous Doctor’s hat on the console, and even though he knew his past self could find a new one in the wardrobe room, he flicked a switch that brought the other man back.

“I think Rose wanted a proper goodbye,” he said, putting a hand on her back and nudging her towards his past self.

Rose looked up at her Doctor, then stepped forward to wrap her arms around the previous Doctor. “Please, take care of yourself,” she whispered in his ear. “Things are gonna happen, and you won’t want to, but that’s when you meet me. And Doctor… no matter what we’ve been through, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

The younger Doctor looked down at her, and the older Doctor smirked at the confusion on the other man’s face. Even where he was, before the Time War, he couldn’t comprehend Rose’s devotion to him. _Oh, just give it a few centuries, Doctor. It’ll make even less sense to you by the time you actually meet her._

Rose stepped back, and the Doctor handed his past self his hat. The other Doctor took it and placed it on his head.

“To days to come,” he said, looking at Rose as he did.

The Doctor wrapped an arm around her waist. “All my love to long ago.”

This time, when his previous self disappeared, the Doctor let him go. As he did, the memory of meeting himself and Rose unlocked, permanently this time.

Rose looked up at him. “How does that work, him knowing me? You didn’t know me when we met, did you?”

“Absolutely not,” the Doctor said adamantly. “That would have been a massive deception—I never would have done that to you, Rose.”

She tilted her head. “Yeah, I guess I didn’t think about it like that. But how does it work, then?”

The Doctor sat down on the jump seat and patted the empty spot. When she sat down beside him, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

“We talked about this on Barcelona, remember?” he began. “How bonding with a Time Lord bonds you to every one of their regenerations, past and present?”

“Right…” Rose traced a pattern on his thigh, and a moment later, he recognised it as the circular symbols making up the word forever. “But you didn’t say that if we met younger versions of you, they’d recognise me.”

“Well, first off, I think we need to assume that this was not the first time I had met us, even though it was the first time we’ve met me.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I picked up on that, too. But he said at the end that he forgets, and yet he knew me right away.”

The Doctor leaned his head against the seat back and sighed. “Marriage bonds are… trans-temporal,” he said. “Any time I meet you once we have a bond, I will feel your side of the bond call to me.”

Rose shifted beside him, and he looked down at her frowning face. “Then how come you didn’t recognise me in Henrik’s?” The lines on her forehead cleared before he could answer. “Oh! You didn’t know me when I met you the first time, because I hadn’t bonded with you yet.”

“Right! Of course, every time I meet you before I met you…” The Doctor let that sentence trail off, snorting at the absolute ridiculousness of it. “Anyway, if I meet you as my bond mate before I meet you properly in my ninth incarnation, I have to hide the memories so I don’t ruin my own timeline. One thing I’d never want to ruin is the way I met you, Rose.”

Rose looked up at him, a soft smile on her face. “You said just one word.”

The Doctor reached for her hand. “I said, ‘Run.’”

She stretched up, and the Doctor bent his head to kiss her. He sighed at the warm pressure of her lips against his. His fifth self had been absolutely enamoured with her, of course, as he suspected every Doctor who met her would be. But he was the Doctor who knew her; he was the Doctor who was married to her.

Rose pulled away from his kiss and smirked up at him. “Bit silly, being jealous of your own self,” she teased.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. “So you’re saying that if we went back to, say, early 2005, and I met you before I met you, you wouldn’t be jealous of your younger self?”

Rose tugged on his tie. “Nope. Because that nineteen-year-old girl would be just weeks away from meeting the most amazing man in the universe, who would totally sweep her off her feet.” She looked up at him through her eyelashes. “As long as he remembers to tell her that his ship also travels in time.”

The Doctor leaned down to kiss her again, but TARDIS shook and a ship’s horn blared through the console room, interrupting the tender moment. Rose and the Doctor looked up behind them at the prow of a ship, protruding through the walls of the TARDIS.

“What?” the Doctor cried, jumping to his feet.

The dust settled, and he spotted a life preserver. He crawled to it and flipped it over, a rock settling in his stomach when he read the name. _Titanic._

“What?” he said again, not pleased with this turn of events.

Rose joined him on the floor and started laughing when she read it. “Well,” she said, her voice merry, “the TARDIS does travel in time.”


	2. Christmas on the Titanic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are a few memories of Christmases past, and happy times in the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a scene from [Hope is Where Forever Begins](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8235923) mentioned in this chapter.

Chapter Two: Christmas on the _Titanic_

The Doctor stared at the prow of the ocean liner protruding into the TARDIS, then jumped to his feet and turned to the console. “Right,” he muttered as he pressed a button. He turned a crank and the TARDIS walls repaired themselves. “We definitely do not need _that_ on the TARDIS.”

“Doctor, if this is the _Titanic,_ why don’t I feel my skin crawling, like it does if we get too close to a fixed point?”

He stared at Rose. “That is… an excellent question,” he said as he turned the scanner on, checking the interloper out a little more. The results he got a moment later explained it. “Ah.”

“ _Ah_ what?” Rose asked as she peered over his shoulder. “Oh! It’s not the real _Titanic_. Well, of course it isn’t, or we’d have seawater pouring in here.” She rocked back on her heels, a grin on her face. “So, shall we find a parking space and do some investigating?”

The Doctor pressed his tongue to the back of his teeth. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he hedged.

Rose blinked at him. “What? Why not? What could be more us than the _Titanic_ in space?”

“That’s what I’m worried about, actually,” the Doctor told her. “I’m not overly keen on the idea of boarding a ship with that name. I was on the original; that’s quite enough for me.”

“Oh, that’s right… I forgot you were on the _Titanic_.”

The Doctor blinked down at her. “How did you know that?” he asked, more than willing to go down that rabbit hole of a conversation if it meant Rose forgot about wanting to board the ship.

Her tongue peeked between her teeth. “See, I’d just met this fascinating bloke, and after he told me to forget him, he disappeared in a blue box. Or that’s what it seemed like, anyway. So I looked you up on the internet and found this conspiracy theorist who had all these pictures. One of ‘em was of you getting ready to board the _Titanic._ ”

“It was before I…” He leaned against the console and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, after I met you, but before I came back to pick you up. Remember how I said the end of the Time War dulled my senses?”

Rose nodded.

“I could feel something if I went too close to a fixed point, even if it was just an annoying buzz in the back of my mind, telling me to be careful.”

Rose tugged on his tie and smiled at him. “I’m glad you eventually decided to come back for me.”

The Doctor rested his hands on her hips and pulled her close. “That was pretty much a given from the moment we met, love,” he told her, delighting in the way she still blushed when he hinted at how long he’d loved her. “I held out as long as I could—couldn’t blame you for not wanting to be with me. But in the end, everything inside me just screamed to go back and make sure you came with me.”

Rose smiled for a moment, then narrowed her eyes and took a step back. “You’re trying to distract me,” she deduced. “You don’t want to go onto the _Titanic,_ so you’re telling me stories, hoping I’ll forget.”

The Doctor groaned. “And it was so close to working.”

“But why don’t you want to go?”

He turned around and adjusted some controls on the console. “Oh, no reason really,” he said breezily, only realising his mistake when a wave of betrayal hit him seconds before he heard Rose gasp.

The Doctor spun around to look at his bond mate, his eyes wide. “Rose…”

“You… you lied to me,” she whispered. “You haven’t lied to me in almost three years. Why now, Doctor?”

He closed his eyes and slumped against the console. “I spent the last five months on the _Valiant_ lying to the Master every day. He wanted me to break, wanted to see my agony over losing you, and I refused to let him. Not admitting that I’m upset became second nature.” He opened his eyes and looked at Rose again. “That doesn’t excuse lying to _you_ , though. I’m so sorry, Rose.”

She tilted her head and looked at him hard, and eventually nodded once. “It became a habit,” she said. “Self-preservation. I can understand that. But try not to do it again.”

“I will,” he said fervently. “I promise, Rose.”

“So why don’t you want to go on the _Titanic?_ ”

The Doctor looked away from her. “I’m not really ready to go running headlong into danger again,” he muttered.

“Do you know about this ship? About what happens to it?” Rose asked.

He shook his head.

“Then how do you know it would be dangerous?”

He snorted. “Rose. It’s a ship named _Titanic._ The chances that some kind of disaster will befall it are frankly astronomical.”

She nodded. “And then add our ability to attract danger…”

“Exactly.” He took a deep breath. “But if you really want to go, we will.” He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “I have a pretty big mistake to make up for, after all.”

“You don’t need to make it up to me, Doctor,” Rose protested.

The Doctor pressed a finger to her lips. “I want to, and I’ll feel better if I do. So if you want to go on the _Titanic_ , just say the word and we’ll go.”

Her eyes sparkled as she bit her lip, and the Doctor turned around to set the coordinates before she even nodded. Despite his own misgivings, he did love seeing the excitement that had been missing from Rose’s eyes since their run-in with the Master.

The TARDIS made its wheezing noise as she flew them across space, into the ship that had collided with them. (Thinking about it, the Doctor wondered how that had even happened. Hadn’t they been in the Vortex still? He had the sudden suspicion that this had all been arranged by his ship, and he didn’t know why.)

When they landed with a light thud, Rose bounced on her toes. “Can I go first?”

The Doctor laughed and put his hands in his pockets. He’d almost forgotten how contagious Rose’s enthusiasm for travel was. “After you, love,” he told her, nodding at the door.

She beamed at him, then opened the door and stepped out of the TARDIS. The Doctor followed and looked around the small cupboard they’d landed in while he shut the door.

“Looks like a butler’s pantry,” he said, observing the shelves filled with glassware.

He pulled open the door and blinked as they stepped out onto the ship proper. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought they actually were on RMS _Titanic._ The ballroom was lavishly appointed with rich woodwork and gleaming chandeliers, and everyone, from guests to staff, were dressed in Edwardian formalwear.

_I thought this wasn’t the real Titanic._

The Doctor took Rose’s hand and started for the windows. _It isn’t. It can’t be. The real Titanic didn’t look anything like this._ He nodded at short tuxedoed figure with bright red skin and spikes on his head. _And there were no aliens on the Titanic either—except me. But someone’s gone to a lot of trouble to replicate the era, that’s for sure._

Rose looked around at the crowd, then down at her own dusty jeans, and stopped. The Doctor turned around and raised an eyebrow, and she shook her head.

_I don’t think we’re dressed according to the dress code,_ she told him, gesturing at the guests.

The Doctor’s eyes widened, and Rose knew exactly what he was going to say. _You want me to wear the Tuxedo of Doom on a ship called Titanic?_

Rose tugged on the end of his tie and looked up at him through her eyelashes. _But if you wear your tux, I can put on a pretty dress._

Interest sparked in the Doctor’s eyes, and Rose bit her lip to hold in her laughter. He might be a twelve hundred year old alien, but he was still a bloke.

He shook his head. “Not a bloke,” he disagreed as they started back towards the TARDIS. “Just a man in love with his bond mate.”

A steward passed them and looked askance at their attire, and Rose waved. “Just going to clean up,” she assured him, and he nodded, his frown smoothing out.

Once they were back on the TARDIS, Rose pushed the Doctor towards their room. “You get changed. I’m going to find a dress.”

Rose was almost giddy with anticipation as she walked to the wardrobe room. Their first trip after the Master, and she got to dress up? In period clothes, even?

She patted the TARDIS as she entered the wardrobe room. “Thank you, dear.”

The lights flickered, and the response didn’t seem as welcoming as she would have expected. Rose paused, misgivings overtaking her for a moment. Was the Doctor right? A ship called _Titanic_ and his tux definitely increased the odds that they would run into trouble.

The possibility of losing the Doctor occurred to her, and she immediately wanted to be sick. She did not want to go through that pain ever again. Rose bit her lip; maybe they should just stay home, after all.

A brief tug from the TARDIS asked her to turn around, and all of her qualms disappeared when she saw the black velvet gown the ship had found for her. “Oh, it’s _beautiful_ ,” she breathed.

Rose reached out a hand and touched the bodice, sighing at the softness of the plush fabric. The cap sleeves were lace, and the bodice was trimmed in gold brocade at the neckline and around the waist.

But the best feature by far was the almost sheer burgundy fabric that draped from the shoulders down the length of the dress. At the waist, it was cinched in by the gold braid, making the skirt look red, even though it was the same black velvet as the bodice.

Rose hurriedly changed into the gown, taking a quick twirl in front of the mirror once it was on. Just like she’d imagined, the wispy fabric billowed around her as she moved, making it look like she was surrounded by tiny flames.

A pair of low-heeled dress shoes were on the chaise lounge, and she put them on before sitting down at the vanity to do her hair. Thinking about the women she’d seen on the ship, she pulled her newly trimmed and dyed hair into a low knot, letting a few curls slip free of the chignon around her face. The TARDIS had provided several clips studded with what Rose suspected were genuine rubies, and she clipped a few of them into her hair.

Once she’d done her makeup, Rose pulled on the final piece of her ensemble—black elbow-length gloves. Then she took the tiny black velvet handbag that held her sonic screwdriver, a credit stick, and a compact, and looked in the mirror again.

Her eyes widened when she took in her reflection, and a black-gloved hand reached out to touch the figure in the mirror. This woman looked like she belonged at a posh party on luxury liner. She didn’t look like Rose Tyler.

Thankfully, between the lace, chiffon, and gold braid decorating the bodice, Rose didn’t feel like her neck looked too bare. She’d barely glanced at the tray of necklaces the TARDIS had left out. The last time she’d put a necklace on hadn’t gone too well, and she couldn’t imagine wanting anything around her neck for a while yet.

_Are you ready?_

Rose pressed her lips together to keep from laughing at his obvious impatience. _Why don’t you wait for me out on the ship?_ she suggested. _I want you to get the full effect the first time you see the dress._

That sparked his curiosity. _If I remember correctly, you’ve told me that once before._

_And wasn’t it worth it?_ Rose countered.

_Oh, yes._

His memory of John Tyler’s love and desire when he’d seen the human Rose in her dress caught her by surprise. It wasn’t that she didn’t know he loved and wanted her, but she hadn’t been privy to those thoughts and feelings when they’d been human.

_I didn’t realise you liked that dress that much,_ she said, flirting a bit to ease her nerves.

_The dress was lovely, but it was the woman wearing it who took my breath away,_ he told her, making her own breath catch.

Rose pressed her fist to her chest and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were pink from the Doctor’s compliments, and a strand of hair was already falling out of her clips, curling against her forehead. What would he think when he saw her?

A moment later, the Doctor said, _All right, love. I’m waiting for you on the ship, as ordered._

Rose clutched her purse and nodded once. If he’d thought the nice dress she’d worn in Farringham had been impressive, he would be completely blown away by what she had on tonight. Her soft-soled shoes barely made any sound as she walked through the corridors. The TARDIS offered her a whistle of encouragement as she left the ship.

oOoOoOoOo

The Doctor snagged a glass of champagne from a passing server while he waited for Rose. He knew she was on her way, and he couldn’t stop his toes from tapping impatiently. Her enigmatic comments about her dress intrigued and enticed him, especially when she purposely referenced their aborted dance in 1913. That evening hadn’t ended well, but the dance, where John had held Rose in his arms as she’d confessed how long she’d been in love with him… That was one of his favourite memories from their time as humans.

The soft snick of a latch caught his attention, and he realised his gaze had drifted away from the door as his thoughts had wandered. He looked back, and nearly dropped his glass when he saw Rose in her Edwardian finery.

Rose’s eyebrow arched and she tilted her head as her deep red lips curved up in a coy smile. The Doctor shook his head slowly and put the glass down on a table as he walked towards her.

“Rose Tyler,” he murmured as he brushed an errant curl out of her face. “You are… stunning, love.”

To his surprise, she didn’t meet his gaze. “Well, I clean up nice enough at least,” she said with a self-deprecating chuckle.

The Doctor stared down at her blonde curls. Even though she was playing it off, he could feel her insecurity. She really didn’t believe she was beautiful. _But I’ve told her before…_

It clicked. He _had_ told her before—before the Master had made her question every aspect of her worth.

He reached out and cupped her face between his hands. _Look at me, Rose,_ he encouraged, and when he could see her warm brown eyes, he poured every bit of love and desire he felt in this moment over their bond.

Rose gasped and swayed slightly, and the Doctor dropped one hand to her waist to hold her steady.

_You’re always gorgeous, no matter what you’re wearing,_ he promised her.

A few tears welled up in her eyes, and he brushed them away with his thumb before they could fall. _You told me that once before._

_On our wedding day, when you asked what you should wear. It was true then, and it’s true today._

She finally smiled at him.

The Doctor returned her smile and let his fingers trace lightly over her features for a moment. When he rubbed his thumb over her lips, she parted them automatically, and he couldn’t resist that invitation.

His hand slid around to the back of her neck as he bent down to press his lips to hers. He swiped his tongue over her bottom lip, catching a hint of the tea she’d drunk earlier. Rose sighed and grabbed his lapel, and he slid his tongue into her mouth for a better taste.

When her fingers scraped through the short hairs at the nape of his neck, the Doctor groaned and dropped his hands to her hips so he could pull her close. The physical sensations of kissing Rose were always overwhelming, but it was the way her love and desire pulsed over the bond that truly drew him in.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder a moment later, and the Doctor decided to stop kissing Rose just long enough to tell the person where they could step off. However, when he turned around and met the disapproving glare of the chief steward, the words died on his tongue.

“I beg your pardon, sir,” the man said, derision dripping from every word, “but if you’re going to engage in behaviour like that, I’ll have to ask you to return to your stateroom.”

For a few seconds, the Doctor contemplated doing exactly that. They might not have a stateroom, but their bedroom was close enough to count, right? But then he heard Rose’s muffled snort and knew from her laughter that the moment was gone. And while he was fairly confident he could bring it back, he wanted to give her the party she’d been looking forward to.

“Quite right,” he said brightly to the steward. “Sorry about that. I just got… a little carried away when I saw how beautiful my wife looks tonight.”

The steward’s gaze shifted to Rose, and the Doctor huffed when the other man’s eyes widened. “She is lovely, but all the same, I must ask you to maintain the decorum that would have been expected on the original _Titanic’_ s maiden voyage. A chaste kiss is acceptable; kisses that seem to be a prelude to indecent acts are not.”

He nodded sharply, then spun around and walked off—and good thing, too, because Rose couldn’t restrain her laughter any longer.

“Indecent acts!” she gasped as she leaned on the Doctor for support. “That was worse than the hayride driver on our honeymoon, with his ‘no canoodling’ rule. I haven’t been hand-checked on a dance floor since I was fifteen.”

The Doctor shook his head and offered her his arm. “Come along, Miss Tyler,” he said in an affected voice. “Let us mingle with the upper crust. Perhaps their superior manners will rub off on us.”

Rose snorted. “Not likely. You’re over one thousand years old and still rude. I don’t think one fancy party is going to change that.”

She led the Doctor towards the windows. “I want to see where we are,” she said. “Funny logo,” she added, taking in the frosted glass pattern in the middle of the windows before she could see what star system they were in.

The Doctor tensed. “That’s… that’s an image of the _Titanic_ sinking,” he muttered. “I’m starting to think something is very much not right about this ship. Who would name a ship after one of the most famous sea disasters of all time? And then use imagery of that ill-fated voyage to brand their new starliner?”

When Rose reached the window, the familiar sight below her drove the Doctor’s questions to the back her mind. “Oh!” she breathed, looking down at her own planet.

“Attention all passengers,” the computer announced. “The _Titanic_ is now in orbit above Sol Three, also known as Earth. Population: Human. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Christmas.”

“Well, that explains why they’re playing ‘Jingle Bells,’” Rose said, finally recognising the familiar tune.

She turned and smirked up at the Doctor. “I have to say, though, between the name of the ship, your tux, and it bein’ Christmas, I think we’re doomed.”

The Doctor pressed his lips into a thin line. “Yeah,” he said shortly. “We could always…”

“Go home” hung in the air.

“Nah.” Rose reached for his hand and laced her fingers through his. “Let’s stay at least a little bit longer.”

He didn’t argue, but he was obviously unhappy with the idea. Rose studied him for a moment, then settled on a compromise. “If something happens and it looks like it’s going to be dangerous, we can go.”

“And leave everyone else onboard to whatever fate awaits them?”

Rose shook her head. “We’ll go back to the TARDIS and figure out a way to rescue them from there.” He eyed her sceptically, and she squeezed his hand. “I promise, Doctor.”

He waited another beat, then sighed and nodded his head. “Let’s go enjoy this party while it lasts, shall we?”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

The Doctor pulled Rose close and brushed a kiss over her forehead. Every instinct he possessed told him to get her away from this ship, but he couldn’t honestly say if it was the latent awareness of danger his time senses often afforded, or simply the events of the last year.

Holding her calmed most of his nerves, though, and after a moment, he stepped back and smiled at her. “Come on. Let’s see if we can figure out a little more about this ship. There’s bound to be an information kiosk somewhere.”

He turned and scanned the room, finally spotting the computer terminal next to a gorgeous depiction of a sailing vessel done all in fairy lights. Rose nodded when he pointed to it, and they crossed the room together.

The same logo of the sinking ship was in the centre of the monitor, with the company name around it: Max Capricorn Cruiseliners. Without any instructions or obvious interface, the Doctor tapped on the screen, hoping that would work.

The logo peeled away to reveal a bald man with brilliant blue eyes. “Max Capricorn Cruiseliners,” he said, and the Doctor took an immediate dislike to his smarmy voice and smile. “The fastest, the farthest, the best. And I should know because my name is Max.”

In the cheesiest special effect the Doctor had seen in ages, Max smiled right at the camera, and the light reflected off his gold tooth.

“Right,” the Doctor muttered when the screen went back to the company logo. “That told us almost nothing.”

“It told us the company is owned by an arrogant wanker who’s probably the bad guy,” Rose countered.

The Doctor looked down at her. “All right, explain to me how you’ve figured that out, when we don’t even know anything is going to happen.”

“Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?” A cheeky smile broke through her serious attitude, and he realised she was teasing. “Only villains smile like that.”

“Of course,” the Doctor drawled. “How could I have forgotten?”

“Winter Wonderland” played in the background as he looked for a crew member or someone else who might have more information. Instead, he spotted the large angel robots stationed around the room and had an epiphany.

“Come on,” he told Rose. “I bet those are Information Robots.”

A sour-faced man holding a mobile to his ear stepped right in front of them. “It’s not a holiday for me,” he said curtly, “not while I’ve still got my vone. Now do as I say and sell.”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. _Very Scrooge-like._

_Yeah. Maybe he’s the bad guy?_

The angel turned towards them as they approached, and the Doctor tugged on his ear. “Evening. Passengers fifty-seven and fifty-eight. You’ll have to excuse us—we’ve both got terrible memories. So, remind us… you would be?”

“Information,” the angel said, its hands pressed together as though in prayer. “Heavenly Host, supplying tourist information.”

_Excellent! I was right!_ “Good, so, tell me, because I’m an idiot,” the Doctor babbled as he shook his head, “where are we… from?”

“Information: The _Titanic_ is en route from the planet Sto in the Cassavalian Belt. The purpose of the cruise is to experience primitive cultures.”

“ _Titanic_ ,” the Doctor said quickly, before Rose could jump on the Host for calling Earth primitive. “Who thought of the name?”

“Information: It was chosen as the most famous vessel of the planet Earth.”

Rose snorted. “Did anyone tell you _why_ it was famous?”

The Host turned to look at her. “Information: All designations are chosen by Mr. Max Capricorn, president of Max— Max— Max—”

After naming Max Capricorn, the Host started twitching, and the even, slightly creepy voice rose in pitch. “Ooo, bit of a glitch,” the Doctor said, reaching into his pocket for his sonic.

The same steward who’d called them out on their PDA a few minutes ago appeared almost out of nowhere. He waved dismissively, in the universal language of company employees who don’t want a known issue to become _too_ known. “It’s all right, sir, we can handle this.”

He gestured to his staff, and two more officers arrived almost immediately. Together, they wrangled the Host until they could hit an off switch located somewhere on the neck.

The steward smiled stiffly at the Doctor as the junior crew members tipped the Host up and carried it away. “Software problem, that’s all,” he told them. “Leave it to us, sir. Merry Christmas,” he added, then followed his two staffers.

Unfortunately for them, the Doctor’s superior biology meant he could hear their conversation perfectly. “That’s another one down,” the steward muttered. “What’s going on with these things?”

Suspicion rolled off Rose as they watched the Host be carried away. _What is it?_ the Doctor asked.

_Remember after our Christmas with Donna, when we decided that any robotic beings wanting to harm us could take the form of something besides Santa?_

A shiver of unease ran down the Doctor’s spine. He did remember that, though he hadn’t thought of it until Rose had brought it up. _You think they’re the bad guy then?_ he teased, trying to lighten the mood. Again, all he really wanted to do was beg Rose to let them go home.

_Pilot fish_ , she said darkly. _Bein’ controlled by the baddie._

The Doctor stared at her. Obviously they weren’t really pilot fish—that wasn’t her point. She meant that like last year, the robots were proxies, letting the actual villain hide in the shadows.

_Say the word and we can go back to the TARDIS._

Rose shook her head quickly. _Not yet._ She took a deep breath. _Tell me about the… Casanova? No, what was the name of the system? The one where people are apparently so advanced that Earth is primitive?_

The Doctor chuckled at her aggravation. _The Cassavalian Belt. It’s on the other side of the galaxy,_ he told Rose. _This ship is a long way from home._

The sound of breaking glass drew their attention, and then the same man who they’d labeled as Scrooge yelled at a hapless blonde server. “For Tov’s sake, look where you’re going. This jacket’s a genuine Earth antique.”

Fire flashed in the woman’s eyes, but she almost immediately lowered her gaze to the floor so the irate guest wouldn’t see it. It was a move Rose recognised easily from her time at Henrik’s.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said, though she couldn’t keep the edge out of her voice.

As she got down on the floor, the unpleasant man railed at her. “You’ll be sorry when it comes off your wages, sweetheart. Staffed by idiots.”

“Oi!” Rose said, pulling away from the Doctor and putting both her hands on her hips. “Who are you calling an idiot? You were the one too busy with your bloody vone to watch where you were going.”

The man’s eyes narrowed and swept up and down Rose before cutting over to the Doctor. “Does she belong to you?”

“I don’t belong to _anyone_ , mate,” Rose growled, quivering with anger now.

But he didn’t look away from the Doctor. “I recommend you keep your wife out of my way,” he said, then brushed off his shirt and stalked off, leaving Rose spluttering after him.

“Did he… that’s… he just _ignored me_!”

“I’m not surprised,” the other woman said. Her black and white costume was a frillier version of what Martha had worn in Farringham, though the skirt was shorter than anyone would have worn in 1913. “You really shouldn’t have bothered—everyone on Sto knows Rickston Slade is an entitled bastard.”

“Well, I’m not from Sto,” Rose said as she crouched down to help the server pick up the broken glass, “and I’m not in the habit of letting arrogant twats walk all over innocent servers.”

The woman shot her a tight smile. “Thank you, ma’am. I can manage.”

Rose smiled bracingly. “‘Course you can. You weren’t even fazed when that _miresa cheilith_ bulldozed into you. I reckon you can take care of yourself just fine. But as long as I’m here, why should you have to? I’m Rose. What’s your name?”

“Astrid. Astrid Peth.” Astrid sat back on her heels and looked at Rose. “What did you just call Slade? I’ve never heard that word before.”

Rose looked up at the Doctor, who had his hands in his pockets and was grinning down at them. _The TARDIS sometimes decides not to translate swear words, and that was a beauty, Rose._

She nodded slightly and looked back at Astrid. “It’s a curse word. I’m guessing you can figure out the meaning from the context,” she said wryly.

Finally, a genuine smile crossed Astrid’s face. “I think so,” she agreed. She stood up and looked at the Doctor. “And who are you?”

“I’m the Doctor.” He stuck out his hand and Astrid shook it. “Merry Christmas, Astrid Peth.”

Her eyes brightened, and Rose got the impression that no one had mentioned the holiday to her at all. “Merry Christmas, sir.”

The Doctor shook his head quickly. “Just the Doctor, not sir.” He looked around the full ballroom. “So, how are you liking the travel? Long way from home, Planet Sto.”

“Doesn’t feel that different.” Astrid leaned closer and lowered her voice to a confidential tone. “I spent three years working at the spaceport diner. Travelled all the way here and I’m still waiting on tables.”

When Astrid walked away, it only took one quick look between Rose and the Doctor for them to agree to follow her. She was collecting champagne flutes from a table when they reached her.

“Oh, but the Host said you’re touring around, visiting primitive cultures,” Rose protested. “Surely you get to see the planets when you’ve got a day off.”

Astrid shook her head. “We’re not allowed. They can’t afford the insurance.” She sighed, and her gaze drifted away from them to the Earth, framed perfectly in a large window nearby. “I just wanted to try it, just once. I used to watch the ships heading out to the stars and I always dreamt of—” She pressed her lips together and turned away from the window. “It sounds daft.”

“You dreamt of another sky,” the Doctor said quietly. “New sun, new air, new life. A whole universe teeming with life.” He turned and leaned against the window. “Why stand still when there’s all that life out there?”

Astrid blinked rapidly. “So, you travel a- a lot, then?”

“That’s what we do,” Rose explained. “Travel from place to place, looking for a bit of fun and usually finding trouble instead. Never end up where we mean to, but it’s better that way. Didn’t plan to come here, for instance, but then we wouldn’t have met you.”

Astrid’s frown wrinkled her brow. “How do you end up on a cruise ship without meaning to?”

Rose winked at her. “We’re stowaways,” she whispered.

Astrid tilted her head and her lips parted. “Kidding.”

Rose chuckled quietly and shook her head. “Nope.”

“No!” Astrid gasped.

“I mean it,” Rose insisted.

Astrid glanced around the room again, then shrugged and looked back at the Doctor and Rose. “How did you get on board?”

“Accident,” the Doctor told her. “We’ve got this, sort of, ship thing. We were just rebuilding her. Left the defences down, bumped into the _Titanic_. Rose saw the party and wanted to stay.”

Astrid looked around again. “I should report you.”

The Doctor’s eyebrow rose. “Go on then,” he challenged.

Astrid laughed quietly and shook her head. “I’ll get you both a drink, on the house,” she said, then walked away.

Rose watched her walk away and slipped her hand into the Doctor’s. _I really like her._

His agreement was tempered by something, and she understood a moment later when he said, _At another time, she would be the perfect companion._ He looked down at her seriously and brought her hand to his lips. _It’ll be a while before I’m ready to bring anyone on board with us, Rose._

She let him pull her close with an arm around her shoulders. _Yeah, me too,_ she agreed as she wrapped her arms around his waist. _Think I want you to myself for a bit._ Christmas music played softly in the background, and they swayed lightly to it for a moment—not quite dancing, but almost.

Raucous laughter interrupted their quiet moment, and Rose turned away from the Doctor to follow the sound. A few tables away, a group of people her mum would have called “a bunch of hoity-toity toffs” were obviously taking immense enjoyment from something at the next table. She followed their gaze and tensed—they were laughing at _someone_ , she realised, looking at the overweight couple squirming uncomfortably in their matching cowboy outfits.

The Doctor was already reaching for her hand and leading her toward them. “Something’s tickled them,” he told the couple as they sat down across from him.

“They told us it was fancy dress.” The woman gestured at her purple and white fringed shirt. “Very funny, I’m sure.”

“They’re just picking on us because we haven’t paid,” the man told her soothingly before turning back to the Doctor and Rose. “We won our tickets in a competition.”

A proud smile crossed the woman’s face. “I had to name the five husbands of Joofie Crystalle in _By the Light of the Asteroid._ Did you ever watch _By the Light of the Asteroid_?”

Rose grinned. “Oh, that’s my favourite! Not an easy question, either—I bet most people would forget about Beroff, since she was only married to him in that dream-alternate universe storyline.”

The woman lit up. “You’re right!”

The man smiled down at his partner. “But we’re not good enough for that lot,” he told the Doctor and Rose, jerking his thumb towards the group that was still laughing. “They think we should be in steerage.”

The Doctor glanced over his shoulder at the grown-up bullies, then turned his back on them. “Well, can’t have that, can we?” He pulled his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket and aimed it carefully at the group behind them without turning around. A moment later, he heard the satisfying sound of a champagne cork popping, followed by shrieks of indignation as—he assumed—their expensive finery was doused in sparkling wine.

The woman’s eyes widened, and she pointed at the group. “Did you do that?”

The Doctor smiled slightly as he put his sonic away. “Maybe.”

“We like you,” she declared.

“We do,” the man agreed. He held his hand out for the Doctor to shake. “I’m Morvin Van Hoff. This is my good woman, Foon,” he introduced as he shook hands with both the Doctor and Rose.

“Foon,” the Doctor repeated, as always loving words with the oo sound. “Hello. I’m the Doctor, and this is Rose.”

“Hello, Rose.” Foon waved a buffalo wing at Rose, then turned to the Doctor. “Oh, I’m going to need a Doctor, time I’ve finished with that buffet,” she said jovially. She gestured at the bowl in the middle of their table. “Have a buffalo wing. They must be enormous, these buffalo. So many wings.”

An overhead announcement interrupted their chatter. “Attention please. Shore leave tickets Red Six Seven now activated. Red Six Seven.”

Foon set her buffalo wing down, wiped her mouth, and pulled a red ticket out of her shirt. “Red Six Seven. That’s us. Are you Red Six Seven?” she asked the Doctor and Rose while she and Morvin got up.

“Might as well be,” the Doctor said, after a quick glance at Rose to make sure she was interested.

“Come on, then.” Morvin wrapped an arm around Foon while they waited for the Doctor and Rose to stand up. “We’re going to Earth.”

The two couples made their way to the edge of the room, where an older man in a tweed suit held up a sign. “Red Six Seven. Red Six Seven,” he called out. “This way, fast as you can.”

A hand tapped Rose on the shoulder as they followed the Van Hoffs, and when she turned around, Astrid was there, holding a tray with two champagne flutes. “I got you those drinks.”

Rose looked over her shoulder at the Doctor, and he nodded. She turned back and grinned at Astrid. “And we got you a treat.” She took the tray and set it down. “Come on.”

“Red Six Seven departing shortly,” the man said.

Rose linked her arm through Astrid’s while the Doctor reached into his pocket for the psychic paper. “Red Six Seven for my wife and myself,” he said, then looked at Astrid. “Plus one.”

The man barely glanced at the paper before gesturing at the bracelets in front of him. “Quickly, sir, please, and take three teleport bracelets if you would.”

The Doctor and Rose each took a bracelet, then Rose turned around and handed one to Astrid.

Astrid looked longingly at the bracelet, but shook her head. “I’ll get the sack,” she whispered

“Brand new sky,” the Doctor told her, and excitement lit up in her eyes as she snapped the bracelet on.

“To repeat,” the older gentleman said, “I am Mr. Copper, the ship’s historian, and I shall be taking you to old London town in the country of UK, ruled over by good King Wenceslas.”

_What?_ Rose looked at him incredulously.

“Now, human beings worship the great god Santa, a creature with fearsome claws, and his wife Mary.”

_But that’s…_

“And every Christmas Eve, the people of UK go to war with the country of Turkey. They then eat the Turkey people for Christmas dinner like savages.”

“Hang on,” Rose said, unable to stay quiet any longer. “They don’t eat Turkey people, they eat turkey—it’s a kind of bird. Where did you get this?”

“Well, I have a first-class degree in Earthonomics,” Mr. Copper said matter-of-factly. “Now, stand by.”

He reached for the controls, but high-pitched voice interrupted him. “And me! And me! Red Six Seven.”

The whole party turned around to see the short, red-skinned alien race towards them, waving his ticket in the air.

Mr. Copper sighed. “Well, take a bracelet, please, sir,” he said as he accepted the ticket from the alien.

“But, er, hold on, hold on.” The Doctor looked down at the alien. “What was your name?”

“Bannakaffalatta.”

“Okay, Bannakaffalatta.” He took a deep breath; his protest probably wouldn’t fall on receptive ears. “But it’s Christmas Eve down there. Late night shopping, tons of people. He’s like a talking conker.”

“Rude!” Rose hissed.

“Sorry. My point is that you’ll cause a riot, because the streets are going to be packed with shoppers and parties and—”

Mr. Copper rolled his eyes and hit a button, and they were all transported down to Earth. Rose blinked. The only indicators that they were in London were the signs on the corners, telling them what borough they were in. The holiday decorations were up, but the streets themselves were completely empty.

“Oh,” she and the Doctor said quietly, scanning the street for signs of life.

“Now, spending money,” Mr. Copper said. “I have a credit card in Earth currency if you want to buy trinkets, or stockings, or the local delicacy, which is known as beef. But don’t stray too far, it could be dangerous. Any day now they start boxing.”

“It should be full,” the Doctor murmured. “It should be busy. Something’s wrong.”

“But it’s beautiful.”

Astrid’s voice brought the Doctor and Rose out of their inspection of the empty street.

Rose wrinkled her nose. It was a dirty, abandoned street. “But it’s just London,” she protested. “I mean, there are pretty things on Earth, maybe even in London, but…”

Astrid shook her head. “It’s a different planet!” she countered. “I’m standing on a different planet. There’s concrete and shops. Alien shops. Real alien shops!” She looked up at the sky and pointed. “Look, no stars in the sky. And it smells.” She took a deep breath and wrinkled her nose. “It stinks! Oh, this is amazing.” She hugged Rose and then the Doctor. “Thank you!”

“Yeah?” The Doctor jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Come on then, let’s have a look.”

Rose raised an eyebrow and stifled a chuckle. _By “have a look,” you mean “figure out where everyone has gone, don’t you?_

The Doctor looked down at Rose, a guilty smile on his face. _Aren’t you curious? And Astrid will still get to see more of London._

She grabbed his hand and squeezed. _Yep._ She spotted a newsstand that was still open. _Come on, let’s ask over there._

The headline for _The Examiner_ boldly declared, “London Deserted,” making Rose even more curious. The news agent had a Union Flag draped over the back of his stand, and a piece of mistletoe stuck in his knit cap.

“Hello, there,” the Doctor said. “Sorry, obvious question, but where’s everybody gone?”

The man snorted softly and shook his head. “Oh ho, scared!”

“Right. Yes,” the Doctor agreed, then pushed for more. “Scared of what?”

The newsagent looked him over incredulously. “Where’ve you been living? London, at Christmas? Not safe, is it.”

“Why?” the Doctor asked blankly.

Rose chuckled and tapped him on the shoulder. “Have you forgotten, Doctor? Two years ago, we had the Sycorax.”

“That’s right!” the man agreed. “Big ship in the sky, and everyone standing on the roof.”

“And then last year, the Thames was drained.”

“But only after the Christmas Star tried to electrocute everyone!”

“This place is amazing,” Astrid muttered, almost to herself.

“And this year, Lord knows what,” the man said. “So, everybody’s scarpered. Gone to the country. All except me and Her Majesty.” He stood up and pointed at the television.

Nicholas Witchell stood in front of the Palace. “Her Majesty the Queen has confirmed that she’ll be staying in Buckingham Palace throughout the festive season to show the people of London, and the world, that there’s nothing to fear.”

The man snapped a sharp salute. “God bless her. We stand vigil.”

“Well, between you and me,” the Doctor said, “I think her Majesty’s got it right. Nothing to worry about.”

Rose cleared her throat and said three words. “Christmas. _Titanic_. Tux.”

As she said the last word, she felt the zing of electricity through her body as they were teleported back to the _Titanic._

Rose looked up at the Doctor. “‘Nothing to worry about?’ Really?”

The Doctor looked down at her. “I think you may be right, love.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Mr. Copper said. “A bit of a problem. If I could have your bracelets.”

The steward approached, and Astrid quickly hid behind the Doctor’s back. “Apologies, ladies and gentlemen, and Bannakaffalatta,” the steward said. “We seem to have suffered a slight power fluctuation. If you’d like to return to the festivities. And on behalf of Max Capricorn Cruiseliners, free drinks will be provided.”

After the steward turned back around, Astrid slipped out and handed the Doctor her bracelet. “That was the best. The best!” she insisted, before disappearing back into the crowd. Free drinks meant lots of work for a server.

The Doctor stepped forward and caught the steward’s eye. “What sort of power fluctuation?” he asked as he handed the bracelets over.

The steward stiffened and looked down his nose at the Doctor. “Please sir, I must ask you not to interfere with the daily operations of the ship. The crew are all highly trained and know how to do their jobs.”

“I’m sure they do,” the Doctor said, in a voice that said he was very far from being sure of that fact. “However, I’m—”

“Supposed to be dancing with your wife,” Rose said. She flashed the steward a winning smile as she pulled the Doctor away with a hand on his elbow. “Thank you for indulging my husband, sir,” she said, then dragged him to the dance floor.

“Indulging!” the Doctor sputtered as she draped her arms around his neck. “Rose, what are you doing?”

“Hush,” she hissed. “He’s not gonna listen to you, and you know it. So why rouse his suspicion when you could be doing something else to figure out what’s going on with this ship?” She tilted her head. “You haven’t suggested we leave yet.”

The Doctor sighed. “I wanted to figure out a least the broad story before taking off. And you’re right.” He directed their dance across the floor until they were in front of another creepy picture of Max Capricorn, boasting about his cruise line.

With the sonic screwdriver, the Doctor unfastened the frame so he could get to the electronics behind it. _I should be able to tap into… ah, there we go. Let’s see what’s going on with this ship._

The display on the screen had changed to a readout of the ship’s systems. Two words flashed ominously beneath the digital depiction of the ship. “Shields off-line.” The Doctor sucked in a breath and leaned over so he could see out the window beside them.

Rose followed his line of vision and spotted three bright dots that seemed to be coming closer, and fast. “Doctor, are those…”

“Meteoroids,” he said tersely as he brought up the intercom and rang the bridge. “We can’t leave now, not until we warn everyone. If he brings the shields back online…”

A whistle indicated the call had connected, and he spoke rapidly, explaining what they were seeing. “Is that the bridge? I need to talk to the Captain. You’ve got a meteoroid storm coming in west zero by north two.”

“Who is this?” the Captain answered.

The Doctor ground his teeth together, impatience pouring off him. “Never mind that; your shields are down. Check your scanners, Captain. You’ve got meteoroids coming in and no shielding.”

“You have no authorisation. You will clear the comms at once,” the captain ordered.

“Yeah?” the Doctor snapped as he looked out the window again. “Just look starboard!”

The steward grabbed the Doctor by the arm. “Come with me, sir.”

Rose followed as they dragged him away from the party, and the Doctor looked back at her. _Rose, you can still get in the TARDIS._

_Not a chance,_ she told him.

_Please, love…_

_No! The last time I let you out of my sight on a ship…_ She swallowed hard and immediately felt the Doctor’s apology. _S’okay. I know you just want me to be safe, but right now, if I have to choose between being safe and being with you, I’m gonna pick you._

He nodded slightly to let her know he understood, then turned his attention on the crew members frogmarching him towards the edge of the room. “You’ve got a rock storm heading for this ship and the shields are down.”

The steward didn’t even look at him. “I did ask you, sir, to leave the operation of this vessel to its crew. Our captain is highly decorated; I’m sure if we were in any danger, he would have taken care of it.”

The Doctor growled in frustration, and as they passed the stage where a singer was providing live music for dancing, he twisted and managed to get away from the escort. Rose picked up the hem of her dress and chased after him as he ran for the stage.

The poor singer blinked and stumbled back when the Doctor leapt at her and grabbed the microphone stand. “Everyone, listen to me!” he shouted, his mouth so close to the mic that it sent feedback through the system. “This is an emergency! Get to the lifeb—”

A Host clapped his hand over the Doctor’s mouth and pulled him away from the microphone. A moment later, the steward was back, and this time, he held the Doctor more tightly than before.

As they were escorted out of the room, they passed Rickston Slade. Despite the man’s horrible personality, he did strike the Doctor as being someone with at least a modicum of intelligence, so he hissed, “Look out the windows!” If someone knew… and Astrid had said everyone on Sto knew Slade. Maybe people would listen to him.

The various members of their shore outing trailed behind them, each calling out things in defence of the Doctor. Despite the situation, Rose smiled at the loyalty of these people.

As they passed Mr. Copper, he announced that the entire teleport system was down. Rose pressed her lips together; between the captain’s attitude and this new bit of information, she suspected they were the victims of sabotage.

“If you don’t believe me, check the shields yourself,” the Doctor suggested as they entered a stairwell.

The steward led them down into the working parts of the ship, and something in Rose’s mind eased when they were off of the main deck, with all those windows. They were safer here, she was certain.

The Doctor twisted, but he couldn’t get free. “The shields are down. We are going to get hit.”

“Oi! Steward!”

The entire party stopped in the corridor and turned around to look at Rickston Slade.

“I’m telling you, the shields are down!”

Relief surged through the Doctor. “Listen to him. Listen to him!”

The steward looked like he was finally starting to believe them, but it was too late. An explosion rocked the ship, finally freeing the Doctor from the steward’s hold. The corridor filled with smoke, and the Doctor lost sight of Rose as he was thrown to the ground.


	3. Disaster on the Titanic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is where things start to fall apart.

The Doctor squinted through the smoke, panic tightening a band around his chest. A series of explosions shook the ship, making it hard to really see anything. _Rose! Where are you, love?_ As she’d said, the last time they’d been separated on a ship, things hadn’t ended well.

_I’m here, my Doctor._

Another explosion sent debris showering down on their heads, but the Doctor still sighed in relief when he focused on Rose’s direction and proximity over the bond and finally found her. _Come on, get down on the floor. A lower centre of gravity should keep us from being tossed around too much._ He wrapped his hand around her elbow and tried to pull her to the floor.

She resisted his tug, and a moment later he understood why when she pulled Astrid into their huddle. The three of them crouched together on the floor, wincing when a panel over their heads burst into flames.

“We’ve got to move,” the Doctor said, pitching his voice low to be heard. “That fire will cause another explosion.”

Rose and Astrid both nodded, and together, they crept down the corridor, managing to get ten feet away from the panel before it blew.

The force from the explosion knocked them to the ground, and the Doctor tried to shield Rose with his own body as much as possible. His hearts were racing, and Rose wriggled underneath him, stretching her arm out until she could take his hand.

_We’re both still here, Doctor._

He took a deep breath and squeezed her hand. _I love you._

The heat from the flames, uncomfortably close to his back, reminded him that they weren’t completely safe yet. “Let’s go,” he told Rose and Astrid. “But keep low.”

Astrid took a shuddering breath, but she was the first to move, crawling forward on her elbows. The Doctor and Rose followed suit, all of them moving faster than they would have thought possible, thanks to the adrenaline rushing through their systems.

A moment later, the explosions stopped. The Doctor stood up and tried to listen, but he couldn’t hear anything over the whimpering of the rest of the passengers and the sound of fire crackling.

“Shush,” he said, and as soon as the room quieted, he breathed a sigh of relief. There were no explosions rumbling in any part of the ship. “It’s stopping.”

Rose stood up and held out a hand to pull Astrid to her feet. “You all right?” she asked.

Astrid nodded shakily. “I think so.”

The Doctor joined them and rested his hand in the small of Rose’s back. She could feel him trying to control his fear, and guilt crept up on her. He’d asked, more than once, to return to the TARDIS. They were only here right now because she’d insisted on staying.

He rubbed her back gently. _It’s okay, Rose. We can still get to her and rescue these people._

“Bad name for a ship,” he said out loud.

“Nah, I think it’s the tux,” Rose teased.

His chuckle abruptly stopped, and Rose followed his line of sight until it landed on the junior crew person who’d been helping the steward wrangle the Doctor. The Doctor knelt down and felt for a pulse, then looked over at the steward and shook his head.

The steward blanched. “Er, everyone.” He waved his arms to get everyone’s attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, Bannakaffalatta. I must apologise on behalf of Max Capricorn Cruiseliners. We seem to have had a small collision.”

“Small?” Morvin echoed disbelievingly, starting a wave of angry outbursts from the other guests.

“Do you know how much I paid for my ticket?” Slade demanded.

Rose rolled her eyes as she peeled off her satin gloves and stuffed them into her purse. “I don’t think anyone cares, mate,” she muttered at Rickston as the steward kept going with his reassurances. The Doctor was checking into their situation, and she wanted to see how the people were doing.

She froze when the steward bellowed, “Quiet!” finally getting some semblance of order from the group. “Thank you. I’m sure Max Capricorn Cruiseliners will be able to reimburse you for any inconvenience, but first I would point out that we’re very much alive.”

Something caught Rose’s eye, and she called quietly for the Doctor, pointing to the bleeding cut on Mr. Copper’s head. Astrid pressed a towel to it to staunch the bleeding while the Doctor crossed the ten feet or so to join them.

“Are you all right?” the Doctor asked, peering at the cut. It wasn’t _too_ deep, but he still wished he had something to bandage it with.

Meanwhile, the steward was still talking. “She is, after all, a fine, sturdy ship. If you could all stay here while I ascertain the exact nature of the situation.”

The words finally got the Doctor’s attention, and he turned around to see what exactly the steward planned to do to “ascertain the nature of the situation.” His eyes widened when he realised the man’s hand was on the hatch.

“Don’t open it!” he yelled, reaching out for him in vain.

But the steward ignored him, for the last time. The moment he opened the hatch, he and the door were both sucked out into the vacuum of space. The rest of the party shouted in fear as they too were pulled towards the open hatch.

The Doctor knew this feeling, of being tugged towards something almost too powerful to fight. Painful memories he’d almost managed to suppress came screaming to life, and he twisted and looked frantically for Rose. There would be no Pete to catch her this time if she fell.

But she had her elbow hooked around a pipe and returned his fearful gaze with a calm one of her own. _I’m fine, Doctor._

He took a deep breath and gritted his teeth, then let go of his anchor and threw himself across the corridor. He grunted in pain when the sharp corner of the box hit the middle of his back, but he was where he needed to be.

He pulled the sonic out of his pocket and pointed it at the panel until the computer announced the oxygen shield had stabilised, and he could feel the pull disappear.

Rose stood up as he strode past the remaining guests to take her in his arms. She reached up and stroked his temple, and he drew a shuddering breath.

_I’m fine, love,_ she told him. _Check on everyone else._

He was reluctant to let her go, but he did as she asked. “Everyone all right? Astrid?”

Astrid nodded. “Yeah.”

The Doctor scanned the rest of the survivors. “Foon? Morvin? Mr. Copper? Bannakaffalatta?”

They all nodded or answered verbally, and he took a breath and looked at his least favourite person in the room. “And you, Rickston?”

The businessman nodded and reached for his bowtie. “No thanks to that idiot.”

Astrid gasped. “The steward just died.”

“Then he’s a dead idiot,” Rickston retorted as he undid the tie.

“Oi, Rickston,” Rose snapped, “I know you’ve got your knickers in a twist because you’re definitely not getting your deposit back on that genuine Earth antique, but maybe you could try showing a little decency.”

Rickston rolled his eyes. “Listen, lady,” he said, condescension dripping from his voice. “There’s no ROI on decency. We’d be better off if everyone just looked out for themselves.”

“Well, I certainly won’t waste any more of my energy looking out for you.”

The Doctor smirked, but held his hand to hopefully stop the argument. “All right, calm down. Just stay still, all of you.”

The group quieted, and he held out a hand for Rose. _Let’s check out the damage,_ he said once she’d joined him, walking over to the hole created when the steward opened the hatch.

The view of the Earth wasn’t nearly as enchanting now, with debris floating above the planet. _It wasn’t an accident, was it?_ Rose asked. _The shields being down, I mean._

_No._

He heard Astrid join them as a body floated into their line of vision. “How many dead?” she asked, her voice faint.

Rose let go of the Doctor’s hand and moved over to wrap an arm around Astrid’s shoulders. “Hey, let’s focus on the fact that we’re alive, yeah?” she encouraged.

Astrid’s wide eyes and pale face didn’t look overly reassured, and the Doctor reached out and put his hand on her other shoulder. “We’ll get you out of here, Astrid, I promise.” The Doctor shook her shoulder lightly when she didn’t look away from the wreckage. “Look at me. I promise,” he told her when she finally did. “Good. Now, if we can get to Reception, we’ve got a spaceship tucked away.”

A sudden wave of anger, fear, and guilt surged over the bond. “Too late,” Rose said grimly, nodding over his shoulder.

The Doctor stiffened and turned around. “No, no, no,” he groaned when he spotted the TARDIS, floating amongst the rest of the debris. “Oh, that’s not good,” he muttered, tugging on his hair.

“What is it?” Astrid asked. “What’s wrong?”

“That’s our ship over there,” he explained.

Astrid looked out at the debris again. “Where?”

The Doctor nodded as the TARDIS went past them. “There. That box. That little blue box.”

“That’s a spaceship?” Disbelief coloured Astrid’s voice.

“Oi, don’t knock it,” the Doctor protested.

Astrid shrugged. “It’s a bit small.”

“Yeah, I’m more concerned with the fact that she’s not here,” Rose countered, and the Doctor could feel her struggling to control her panic.

He took her shaking hands and brought them to his lips, brushing kisses over her knuckles. _It’s fine, love,_ he told her. _We’ll just… wait for a rescue of some kind, and then go to Earth._

She took a deep breath and nodded, and he let go of her hands. “Rose is right,” he said out loud. “And the trouble is, once it’s set adrift, it’s programmed to lock onto the nearest centre of gravity, and that would be the Earth.”

As he said it, the TARDIS’s path seemed to take some direction, leaving the rest of the wreck of the _Titanic_ behind and quickly zooming down to the planet below.

“Well, at least we’re above Britain right now,” Rose observed. “Maybe when we go down to collect her, we could stop in and say hello to our friends.”

The Doctor grinned and kissed her on the forehead. “That’s one of the many things I love about you, Rose Tyler. Your ability to find the bright side.”

Then he sighed and shook his head. “But before we can even think about joining Martha, or Sarah Jane, or anyone else for a turkey dinner, we’ve got a situation to get ourselves out of.”

He jogged over to a nearby terminal and turned on the comms. “Deck twenty-two to the bridge. Deck twenty-two to the bridge. Is there anyone there?”

The entire party held their breath while they waited for an answer.

“This is the bridge,” a young-sounding man said after a moment.

A wide grin broke out on the Doctor’s face. “Oh, hello, sailor. Good to hear you. What’s the situation up there?”

“We’ve got air. The oxygen field is holding, but the Captain, he’s dead.” The sailor paused for a moment, and when he spoke again, every word came faster, laced with shock and panic. “He did it. I watched while he took down the shields. There was nothing I could do. I tried. I did try.”

“All right,” the Doctor said, pitching his voice low to soothe the young man’s nerves. “Just stay calm. Tell me your name. What’s your name?”

“Midshipman Frame.”

“Nice to meet you, sir.” The Doctor hesitated briefly before answering his next question, but he didn’t have time to waste, waiting for the young man to calm down completely. “What’s the state of the engines?”

“They’re, uh…. Hold on.”

The Doctor didn’t understand why it was taking the midshipman so long to read a status on a monitor, but then he heard long grunt of pain and he got a clearer picture of what had happened on the bridge.

“Have you been injured?” he asked quietly. Frame had said he’d tried to stop the captain…

“I’m all right,” he said, not sounding all right at all. But then he sucked in a breath, and the Doctor had a feeling they had bigger problems than Midshipman Frame’s injuries. “Oh, my Vot. They’re cycling down.”

The Doctor sighed and rubbed at his eye. “That’s a nuclear storm drive, yes?”

“Yeah.”

“The moment they’re gone, we lose orbit.” The Doctor raked a hand through his hair, going over everything he knew about nuclear storm drives.

“The planet,” Midshipman Frame realised.

“Oh, yes,” the Doctor agreed. “If we hit the planet, the nuclear storm explodes and wipes out life on Earth.” But he’d finally remembered something that could at least buy them some time. “Midshipman, I need you to fire up the engine containment field and feed it back into the core.”

“This is never going to work,” he protested.

The Doctor shook his head. “Trust me, it’ll keep the engines going until I can get to the bridge.”

When the Doctor had started talking to the bridge, Rose had turned her attention to the battered, frightened passengers—ignoring Rickston Slade, who was neither battered nor frightened. She’d barely managed to calm them with generic reassurances about how she and the Doctor had handled things like this before when they all overheard the Doctor’s dire pronouncement of what would happen to the ship and the Earth if they couldn’t repair the engines.

“We’re going to die,” Foon said fatalistically.

Her statement broke the calm Rose had worked so hard for. The Doctor spun around as the passengers started talking over each other, trying to understand what had happened.

He held up his hands. “Okay, okay. Shush, shush, shush, shush, shush. First things first. One. We are going to climb through this ship. B.” He blinked and shook his head. “No. Two. We’re going to reach the bridge. Three, or C. We’re going to save the _Titanic_. And, coming in a very low four, or D, or that little iv in brackets they use in footnotes, why. Right then, follow me.”

Rose smiled proudly at him, but the moment had to be ruined by Rickston Slade.

“Hang on a minute,” the arrogant twat demanded.

The Doctor stopped and turned around. His clenched jaw dared Rickston to continue, but the man apparently had no sense of self-preservation.

“Who put you in charge,” he asked, “and who the hell are you anyway?”

Rose sucked in a breath when the Doctor strode towards them. The power swirling in his eyes was mesmerising.

“I’m the Doctor. I’m a Time Lord.” Wiring sparked behind him, giving him an air of danger that commanded respect. “I’m from the planet Gallifrey in the constellation of Kasterborous. I’m nine hundred and three years old and I’m the man who’s going to save your lives and all six billion people on the planet below.”

Rose stared at the Doctor’s dark eyes and hummed softly when she felt the echo of his power reverberate over the bond. His gaze cut over to her for a second, his eyebrow arched in surprise.

Then he narrowed his eyes at Rickston Slade. “You got a problem with that?”

Rickston gulped. “No.”

Rose snorted at the cowed expression on his face, then spun away from the man and reached for the Doctor’s hand before Rickston could ask what she thought was so funny.

The Doctor squeezed her hand. “In that case, allons-y!” he ordered, then turned around and started down the corridor.

He shot Rose a glance as they made their way to the stairs. _So, love,_ he said, a hint of a smug smile on his face, _you seemed to like my speech._

She blushed. _You’re always sexy, Doctor, but there’s something about watching you take command of a situation…_

_Hmmm… yes, you do like it when I take charge, don’t you?_

Rose stumbled as memories flooded the bond. The Doctor caught her and gave her a cheeky wink when she glared up at him.

She shook her head and took a breath, willing her heart rate to slow down. When the urge to jump him had faded, she nudged him with her elbow and looked up at him. _By the way, nine hundred and three?_

The Doctor shrugged. _Humans get weird when they find out you’ve lived more than a millennia._

Rose rubbed her thumb over his. _Oh, because I’m sure it’s much easier to handle the notion that you’re just nine hundred._

_Well… my age is all guesswork anyway._

They finally reached the stairwell, and when the Doctor pushed open the bulkhead door, there was only a very little bit of debris on the other side, offering resistance.

A live wire dangling from a light fixture, though, and the stairs themselves looked a bit precarious. “Careful,” the Doctor said as he walked through the door and held it open. “Follow me.”

“Rather ironic,” Mr. Copper chattered as he walked through the door, “but this is very much in the spirit of Christmas.”

The Doctor and Rose exchanged looks as they shifted debris on the stairs out of the way, clearing a path for the rest of the group.

“It’s a festival of violence,” Mr. Copper continued. “They say that human beings only survive depending on whether they’ve been good or bad. It’s barbaric.”

Rose shook her head. “You’ve got it all upside down,” she argued. “Christmas is about peace, and family, and love.” She pursed her lips. “I mean, lately it seems like there are a lot of alien invasions on Christmas Day, but that doesn’t have anything to do with what the holiday is actually about.”

“I’d believe her if I were you, Mr. Copper,” the Doctor said, somewhat absently. He grunted a bit as he picked up a light fixture that had fallen from the ceiling and set it aside so they could keep going. “Rose is Earth human, born and bred. Oh!”

Rose turned back around, wanting to see what had excited him. When she did, her reaction was the exact opposite of his.

“Leave it alone,” she said, staring down at the inert Host. “Don’t touch it; don’t wake it up.”

“But it’s got the strength of ten,” the Doctor protested. “It could help us shift the rubble.”

Rose glared at him and placed her hands on her hips. “Trombone playing Santas,” she said. “Two years in a row. You couldn’t pay me enough to trust that thing.”

The Doctor sighed somewhat longingly, but he nodded and they kept climbing.

“Hold on,” Rickston said. “Are we really going to ignore a potential resource simply because your blonde trophy wife has a ridiculous phobia of robots?”

Rose bristled, but the Doctor put a hand on her arm and she took a deep breath. Then he turned around and glared at Rickston.

“Rose Tyler is far more than a trophy wife, and I guarantee she’s smarter than you. She’s been my partner for almost five years, and her instincts are hardly ever wrong. They’ve saved our lives more than once. She’s right; we do have a history with robots designed to look like various holiday characters trying to kill us. If she says the Host aren’t to be trusted, I will take her word for it. Now, come on.”

The Doctor felt Rose’s hand take his a moment later, and he squeezed automatically in greeting. Then she brushed a telepathic caress against the bond, and he glanced down at her.

Rose’s eyes glowed. _Thank you, Doctor. That was… thanks._

Her gratitude lifted his mood, and he returned her telepathic caress. _I won’t let people get away with talking about you like that. You’re brilliant, Rose—worth so much more than Rickston Slade._

She blushed and leaned over to peck him on the cheek.

A moment later, they reached the corridor they needed to take—or at least, where it should have been.

“It’s blocked,” Rose said, looking at the large metal posts crisscrossed through the narrow path.

“So what do we do?” the Doctor asked.

Astrid peered at it with the two of them. “We shift it.”

The Doctor grinned at her. “That’s the attitude. Everyone, get to work. The faster we work, the faster we can get out of here and find a way to save this ship.” He looked at the blocked passage, then back at Bannakaffalatta. “Bannakaffalatta… Look, can I just call you Banna? It’s going to save a lot of time.”

The short, red alien shook his head firmly. “No. Bannakaffalatta.”

The Doctor sighed, but nodded his head in agreement. “All right then, Bannakaffalatta. There’s a gap in the middle. See if you can get through.”

“Easy. Good.”

Bannakaffalatta had only gone a few steps when the ship shook, making the debris settle. Everyone looked at each other uneasily, except for Rickston Slade.

“Maybe we could send the blonde. If she were pinned by debris, I imagine you’d be singing a different tune about that Host.”

The Doctor reached Rickston in two strides and grabbed him by the throat. “Did you just threaten my wife?” he asked, his voice deadly quiet.

Rose put a hand on the Doctor’s arm. “He’s not worth it,” she said, turning up her nose. She glared at Rickston. “For the record, though, even if I were trapped under one hundred pounds of steel, I still wouldn’t want one of those things anywhere near me.”

“Bannakaffalatta made it.”

The jubilant proclamation broke some of the tension. The Doctor let go of Rickston, who immediately rubbed at his neck and glared up at him.  

“I should have you arrested for assault once we’re back on Sto,” he threatened.

Rose rolled her eyes. “Don’t even bother, Rickston. You’d have to find us first, and that’s not going to happen.”

Astrid peered through the opening in the debris-filled corridor. “I’m small enough, I can get through,” she said, and started crawling towards Bannakaffalatta.

“I’ll come with you, Astrid,” Rose said.

The Doctor put a hand on her elbow. _Rose…_

_I’d risk a lot more to get away from that arse, Doctor._ Rose smiled at him and took his hand. _I promise I’ll be careful though._

The Doctor hugged her quickly before letting her go. “Be careful, both of you,” he admonished.

“Thing is,” Rickston said snidely after they were gone, “how are Mr. and Mrs. Fatso going to get through that gap?”

The Doctor looked over to the Van Hoffs, standing awkwardly in the corner of the stairwell. Foon’s eyes were downcast, and Morvin had a hand on her shoulder.

He looked at Rickston as he pulled a piece of debris from the corridor and passed it to Mr. Copper. “We make the gap bigger. So start,” he ordered harshly.

Rose pulled herself clear of the last of the debris and brushed her hands off on her sadly-ruined dress. “Made it,” she called to the Doctor, feeling his immediate relief.

Astrid was studying the blocked corridor, and she reached for a chunk of metal. “We can clear it from this side. Just tell us if it starts moving.”

As she grabbed a piece of pipe and pulled it clear, Rose looked around and noticed Bannakaffalatta lying down on the floor a few feet away.

“Bannakaffalatta, what’s wrong?” she asked, kneeling down beside him. Astrid came over to his other side a moment later.

Bannakaffalatta looked from one to the other and shook his head. “Shush.”

“What is it?” Astrid asked.

“Can’t say,” he grunted.

Rose ran her hands over his arms, but there were no visible injuries. “Are you hurt?”

“Ashamed.”

She sat back. “Of what?”

“Poor Bannakaffalatta.” He pulled his shirt up, but instead of skin, they saw a torso made of metal.

Astrid gasped in realisation. “You’re a cyborg.”

“Had accident long ago. Secret.”

“Hang on.” Rose looked at the two of them. “Why’s that got to be a secret?”

Astrid glanced up at her. “I’m afraid for all our space age technology, Sto is still pretty backwards with equal rights.”

Rose huffed. “Not sure you’ve got room to be calling Earth primitive, then.”

“It’s changing,” Astrid insisted. She looked at Bannakaffalatta again. “They passed a new law recently. You can even get married.”

“Marry you?” Bannakaffalatta flirted.

Astrid smiled. “Well, you can buy me a drink first. Come on. Let’s recharge you.” She pressed a button on Bannakaffalatta’s chest panel, then went back to the blocked corridor. “Just stay there for a bit,” she told the injured cyborg.

“Tell no one,” Bannakaffalatta pleaded quietly.

Rose smiled at him. “I promise,” she said, before going to help Astrid.

“What’s going on up there?” the Doctor hollered at them.

Rose and Astrid shared a conspiratorial smile, then Astrid said, “I think Bannakaffalatta and I just got engaged. Maybe I’ll ask Rose to stand up with me at the wedding, so I can see both of you again.”

The Doctor chuckled. It seemed their adventure was settling into a familiar routine of Rose getting to know the people. “Well, keep working. I’m going to get in touch with the bridge, see if anything has changed.”

He grabbed the mic on the nearby comms station and connected with the bridge. “Mr. Frame, how’s things?”

“Doctor, I’ve got life signs all over the ship but they’re going out one by one.”

The midshipman’s answer stole the Doctor’s smile. He leaned forward on the terminal, his mind already trying to figure out a reason for this, even as he asked the question. “What is it? Are they losing air?”

“No. One of them said it’s the Host. It’s something to do with the Host.”

_You were right about the Host, love._

The Doctor sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, Rose—my wife—she thought there might be something off about them. Can you barricade yourself into the bridge, so you’re safe?”

Behind him, Rickston, Mr. Copper, and the Van Hoffs continued to move the debris out of the way.

“I… I think so.”

The Doctor listened anxiously to the young man’s grunts of pain as he crossed the room to the doors. “We’re going to have to talk about your injuries eventually, Midshipman,” he said quietly.

“It doesn’t matter right now,” Frame replied matter-of-factly. “Until we get the engines running again, I’m as good as dead anyway. Oh, Vot!”

The Doctor straightened at the fearful exclamation. “What? What is it, Midshipman?”

Over the comms, he heard several loud clangs, followed by a shout of fear and then another definitive bang. Then there was shuffling and a few grunts of pain, and the Midshipman was back.

“I’ve sealed the door, sir,” he said, “and just in time. Some Host nearly got in.”

The Doctor ran his hand through his hair. “They’ve been programmed to kill. Why would anyone do that?”

“That’s not the only problem, Doctor. I had to use a maximum deadlock on the door, which means no one can get in. I’m sealed off. Even if you can fix the _Titanic_ , you can’t get to the bridge.”

“Yeah, right, fine. One problem at a time,” the Doctor said, unwilling to get bogged down thinking about getting onto the bridge when he still needed to get to the engines.

_And speaking of, the corridor is clear now._ The Doctor could see Rickston’s heels disappearing as he—of course—went through the opening first.

“Listen, I’ll talk to you later,” he told the Midshipman. “We’ve got to get moving.”

“All right. Be careful, Doctor.”

The Doctor turned around and smiled at the group. “Well, what are we waiting for?” he asked. “Mrs. Van Hoff, I think you’re next.”

Foon looked dubiously as the still-narrow passageway, but between Astrid, Rose, Mr. Copper, and Rickston, they’d gotten it cleared enough that she could squeeze through, just barely. On the other end, the Doctor could see Rose hugging the woman, then waving at them.

“Come on then,” she called out. “Who’s next?”

“It’s not bad, Morvin!” Foon told her husband, and although he shook his head, he took a deep breath and followed after her.

Before entering the passage, Mr. Copper looked at him. “You know,” he told the Doctor, “I think this would have gone quite differently if you hadn’t listened to Rose’s concerns about the Host.”

The Doctor clapped him on the shoulder. “In my experience, Mr. Copper, things almost always go better if I listen to Rose.”

The elderly man smiled, then they both went through the passage, rejoining the rest of the party.

When Mr. Copper and the Doctor didn’t follow immediately after the Van Hoffs, Rose started pacing in front of the passageway. She knew nothing was wrong—the Doctor seemed amused, if anything. But the longer they were on the _Titanic_ , the more unpleasant memories of the _Valiant_ were resurfacing. She just needed to see with her own eyes that he was fine.

The ghost of the Master whispered in her mind. _Rose Tyler… Do you need to be able to see your bond mate at all times? How pathetic and weak—but what more can be expected from a human?_

The Doctor finally appeared, and Rose launched herself at him, wrapping her arms tight around his waist. _Hey, whoa… Is everything all right?_

Rose sighed when his arms settled on her back, holding her close. _Just… starting to wish we’d stayed home like you wanted,_ she admitted.

_Would have been nice,_ he agreed. _But with this engine problem, I have to be on the ship anyway. So even if we’d gotten in the TARDIS and tried to fix things from there, eventually, we would have had to come back to the ship._

She felt him drop a kiss to the top of her head, then loosen his hold on her. Reluctantly, she did the same, letting him take a step back.

The Doctor took her hand, then pointed to a corridor. “Come on. I need to find another terminal so I can get in touch with the bridge, and figure out how to get us to the engines.”

Five minutes later, the service corridor widened out into what had probably been a staging area for food and other things waiting to be taken to the guests. Rose’s stomach growled when she spotted the trolley of finger foods, and she wasn’t the only one who noticed it.

“Morvin, look,” Foon said as she hurried over to the trolley. “Food.”

“Oh great.” Rickston sneered. “Someone’s happy.”

Rose took a breath, ready to pounce on him, but Morvin beat her to it. “Don’t have any then,” he ordered angrily. Then he joined Rose and Foon at the table.

“So tell me,” Rose said as she selected a sausage roll, “how exactly did you win those tickets, anyway?” She sat down on a large pipe and patted the spot next to her.

To her surprise, Foon shifted uncomfortably before sitting down beside her.

Morvin picked up on her discomfort too, and looked at his wife. “We won them fair and square. Yeah?”

She nodded, but she looked miserable, only picking at the sandwich she’d taken. “I never told you. I dialled the competition line five thousand times. That’s five thousand credits.” She stared down at the untouched sandwich. “I might as well have paid for the tickets. I’ve been hiding the vone bill for months now.”

“Five thousand credits?” Morvin’s jaw slackened. “You spent five thousand credits?”

Foon looked up at him through her eyelashes before looking away again. “Don’t hate me.”

When Morvin laughed, Rose got up and crossed the room to stand with the Doctor, leaving the Van Hoffs to their private conversation.

The Doctor was staring at a schematic for the ship, a familiar furrow between his brows. He pulled out his brainy specs and slid them on as he asked Midshipman Frame about it.

“Do you see that panel? Black. It’s registering nothing. No power, no heat, no light.”

“I… I don’t know, sir.”

“Some kind of blackout chamber?” Rose suggested. “Impact protection, designed to keep something safe inside when the ship crashes to Earth?”

“Something or someone,” the Doctor agreed. He squinted at the display. “It’s on deck thirty-one. What’s on deck thirty-one?”

“Er, that’s down below,” Frame told them. “It’s nothing. It’s just the Host storage deck. That’s where we keep the robots.”

The Doctor shook his head. “Well, clearly there’s something else down there. That chamber is one hundred percent shielded—that’s not just robot maintenance.”

“I’ll try intensifying the scanner,” Frame offered.

“Let me know if you find anything.” The Doctor whipped his glasses off and put them in his pocket. “And keep those engines going.”

Astrid tapped Rose on the shoulder and held out a plate with two helpings of food. “Saved you some,” she said, a smile on her face. “He might be a Time King from Gaddabee but I bet you both need to eat.”

“Thank you, Astrid.” Rose took the plate before the Doctor could argue, then took his hand and tugged until he sat on a chunk of metal beside her. “You know she’s right,” she said quietly.

“I need to get down to the engines,” the Doctor argued, even as he took a bite of a sandwich.

“And you will. After you eat.”

Mr. Copper shuffled over to them, wiping his forehead on handkerchief. “Doctor, it must be well past midnight, Earth time. Christmas Day.”

Rose and the Doctor both paused, then nodded. “So it is,” the Doctor said. “Merry Christmas.”

“This Christmas thing,” Astrid started as she sat down on a chunk of metal, “what’s it all about?”

Rose sighed and shook her head when the Doctor leaned against the wall, the look on his face like he was about to tell a story. “Oh, Astrid. Don’t ask him things like that. He’ll tell you he was there for it, and that the history books all get it wrong because what really happened was…” Rose gestured vaguely, then laughed when the Doctor poked her in the ribs.

Mr. Copper looked bemusedly from the Doctor to Rose and back again. “But if the planet’s waking up, can’t we signal them? They could send up a rocket or something.”

“Sorry, Mr. Copper,” Rose said, skipping over the fact that thanks to time zones, at least half the planet was always awake. “Earth’s still a level five planet, remember? She doesn’t have rockets. Not ones that could rescue us, at any rate.”

“No, I read about it,” Mr. Copper argued, knotting his handkerchief as he talked. “They have shuffles. Space shuffles.”

The Doctor’s left eyebrow arched. “Mr. Copper, this degree in Earthonomics… Where’s it from?”

The older man deflated. “Honestly?”

“Just between us,” the Doctor whispered, gesturing between himself, Rose, and Astrid.

“Mrs. Golightly’s Happy Travelling University and Dry Cleaners.” Mr. Copper patted at his forehead again and sat down next to Astrid, across the corridor from Rose.

Astrid’s eyes widened. “You, you lied to the company to get the job?”

He heaved a sigh. “I wasted my life on Sto. I was a travelling salesman, always on the road, and I reached retirement with nothing to show for it. Not even a home. And Earth sounded so exotic.”

Rose couldn’t imagine her home planet sounding exotic to anyone who lived on an alien world, but to her surprise, the Doctor hummed in agreement.

“I suppose it is, yeah.”

Astrid tilted her head and looked at him. “How come you know it so well?”

“I was sort of, a few years ago, I was sort of made…”

Rose recognised the post-War memories filtering through the Doctor’s mind and took his hand. He squeezed hers in thanks and took a breath.

“—Well, sort of homeless, and there was the Earth.” He smiled at Rose. “Then I met Rose, and since Earth is her home, it became mine, too.”

Mr. Copper smiled faintly at that explanation, then went back to twisting knots in his handkerchief. “The thing is, if we survive this, there’ll be police and all sorts of investigations. Now the minimum penalty for space lane fraud is ten years in jail.”

He choked up, and Rose reached over with her free hand and rested it on his. He nodded quickly, then finished his explanation.

“I’m an old man. I won’t survive ten years.”

Rose opened her mouth to console the man, but a loud bang on a door cut her off.

“A Host!” The Doctor leapt to his feet. “Move! Come on!”

The Doctor led them down a corridor that he was pretty sure would lead to an engine access room. He used the sonic screwdriver to open the bulkhead, but skidded to a halt when he realised exactly the kind of engine access he’d stumbled across.

They were at least a hundred feet above the engines, in an open shaft that must have run the full height of the ship. The only way to get across the chasm was a narrow catwalk—a catwalk that, like everything else on the _Titanic_ , had been damaged in the collision.

“Is that the only way across?” Rickston asked, sounding fearful, rather than arrogant as usual.

“At least there is a way across, mate,” Rose retorted.

Astrid looked down at the exposed combustion chamber. “The engines are open.”

“Nuclear storm drive,” the Doctor explained. “As soon as it stops, the _Titanic_ falls.”

Behind them, Morvin gestured wildly at the catwalk. “But that thing, it’ll never take our weight.”

“You’re going last, mate,” Rickston declared, his unpleasant attitude back.

The Doctor rolled his eyes. “It’s nitrofin metal. It’s stronger than it looks.”

“All the same, Rickston’s right,” Morvin said. “Me and Foon should—”

The sound of wrenching metal cut off the rest of his sentence, and the Doctor spun around just in time to see Morvin tumble forward as the piece of deck plating he’d stepped on gave way under his weight. Foon reached for him, but she couldn’t stop him from falling into the engine, all the way at the bottom of the ship.

“Morvin!” she cried.

Rose grabbed the woman’s arm to keep her from falling forward, too. At the same time, a torrent of emotion washed over the bond, and she realised the Doctor hadn’t moved from his spot by the catwalk when she, Astrid, and Mr. Copper had run to Foon’s side.

“I told you,” Rickston hollered. “I told you!”

Mr. Copper wheeled on him. “Just shut up. Shut up!”

“Bring him back!” Foon begged. “Can’t you bring him back? Bring him back, Doctor!”

Rose looked up at the Doctor, trying to understand the wild emotions he was projecting. He stared at the grieving woman, his eyes glassy with tears. His mouth worked a few times, but he couldn’t get any words out, and after a moment, he shook his head helplessly.

His emotions crystallised into grief, anger, and denial, and it only took her a second to realise he was caught in a flashback. When he held his arms out for Rose, begging her to come to him, she ran into her Doctor’s embrace.

She could feel him trembling when she wrapped her arms around him, and she pressed a kiss to his chest. _I’m right here, Doctor,_ she promised. _It’s just a memory._

He drew a shuddering breath. _I know. But gods, Rose, I said the same things when I thought… when the Master…_

Rose heard heavy metal footsteps in the corridor and pulled back to look the Doctor in the eye. _You going to be all right?_

He sniffed and nodded. _I have to be._

“Doctor, I rather think that those things have got our scent,” Mr. Copper said, called out, telling them what they’d both already figured out.

Rickston darted out onto the catwalk. “I’m not waiting.”

“Careful,” the Doctor barked. “Take it slowly!”

Rose bit her lip as she watched Rickston cross the chasm. Much as she hated the man, she couldn’t actually wish for him to fall into the engines. Another explosion rocked the ship and he stumbled, nearly falling off.

“Oh, Vot help me,” he cried out.

The Doctor shouted encouragements to him as he undid his bowtie and the top button on his shirt. “You’re okay. A step at a time. Come on, you can do it.”

“Kill. Kill. Kill.”

Everyone looked at each other uneasily, then at the door. That had to be the Host, Rose surmised. Unless there were more things on this ship wanting to kill them, and frankly, after the way the day had gone, she wouldn’t have been surprised.

“They’re getting nearer,” Mr. Copper said unnecessarily.

“I’m going to seal us in,” the Doctor declared as he ran to the door and pointed the sonic screwdriver at it.

“You’re leaving us trapped, wouldn’t you say?” Mr. Copper asked.

“Nah, Mr. Copper,” Rose said, winking at him and shooting him a smile. “Not trapped, just…”

“Inconveniently circumstanced,” the Doctor finished for her when she couldn’t think of another way to phrase it.

For once, the kindly old man looked thoroughly unamused. “Oh.”

The Doctor grinned at him as he shut the door and sonicked the controls, hopefully giving them a bit of time to cross the catwalk before the Host could break the door down.

More crashes from the catwalk got everyone’s attention, but Rickston held a hand out. “I’m okay.”

Against his will, the Doctor’s gaze drifted to Foon. Astrid was comforting her now, and they sat side by side on the edge of the chasm.

“Maybe he’s all right,” Foon said desperately.

And oh, the Doctor recognised the calculation and bargaining she was going through. All the ways Morvin might be alive, all the things she could do to get him back…

“Maybe, maybe there’s a gravity curve down there or something. I don’t know. Maybe he’s just unconscious.”

“I’m sorry, Foon,” Astrid said gently. “He’s gone.”

The Doctor swallowed past the lump in his throat when Foon broke down sobbing. Rose wrapped an arm around his waist, and he focused on the fact that she was here with him.

Together, they watched Rickston take the last few steps and then leap onto the landing on the opposite side. “Yes. Oh, yes! Who’s good?”

“Bannakaffalatta, you go next,” the Doctor directed.

Bannakaffalatta nodded once. “Bannakaffalatta small.” He darted out onto the catwalk, making it sway dangerously.

“Slowly!”

A loud pounding on the door alerted them to the arrival of the Host. The Doctor watched uneasily as their fists dented the metal bulkhead. They were going to get through faster than he’d expected.

“They’ve found us,” Mr. Copper said.

“Rose, you and Astrid get across right now.”

Rose clutched her hands around her purse. “What about you?”

He took one of her hands and squeezed reassuringly. “I promise I’ll be right behind you. Go on.” She nodded and stepped onto the catwalk, then after a moment, Astrid followed her. The Doctor put a hand on Mr. Copper’s shoulder. “Mr. Copper, we can’t wait.”

The older man looked at the way the catwalk was creaking beneath the combined weight of three people. “No, but we—”

“Don’t argue,” he snapped, and Mr. Copper straightened his shoulders and eased his way onto the catwalk.

Then the Doctor turned to the remaining member of their party, the one he could most relate to. “Foon, you’ve got to get across right now.”

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “What for? What am I going to do without him?”

“Doctor?” Rickston called out. “The door’s locked!”

The Doctor looked up at Rose and she nodded. “Rose can help you when she gets there.” Then, he focused back on the grieving woman. “I know. I know it feels that way right now.”

“How could you know? You’ve still got Rose!”

He took a deep breath, knowing she hadn’t meant for her words to wound. “I do now, but she was taken from me last year, and her abductor faked her death. I thought she was dead for three months, so believe me, Foon, I know exactly what you’re going through.”

“It’s going to fall,” Astrid cried over the creaking and screeching of the catwalk.

“It’s just settling,” Rose countered. “Keep going.”

“That’s it, love,” the Doctor muttered to himself. “Keep them moving.”

“How did you do it, Doctor?” Foon sobbed. “How did you keep going? Didn’t you just want to follow her?”

The ghost of remembered pain taunted the Doctor. Yes, he had. More than once, he’d wished he could die so the broken bond wouldn’t hurt anymore. A headache built behind his eyes, and he rubbed at his temple, then looked at Rose to remind himself that she wasn’t actually gone.

Foon was waiting for an answer, and the Doctor sighed. “Well, I had a purpose. The person who took her was… er, a criminal. So I focused on bringing him to justice.” He swallowed hard. “It was the only thing that kept me sane for a while.”

Rather ominously, the pounding on the door stopped suddenly. All seven of them looked at each other, even Foon. Why had the Host given up?

“They’ve stopped,” Astrid said hesitantly.

“Gone away?” Bannakaffalatta suggested hopefully.

The Doctor shook his head and stood up, studying the room. “Why would they give up?”

“Never mind that,” Rickston snarled. “Keep coming.”

The Doctor stared at the door. “Where have they gone? Where are the Host?”

“I’m afraid we’ve forgotten the traditions of Christmas,” Mr. Copper moaned. “That angels have wings!”

Five Host descended on them, hovering in the air around them. “Information. Kill.”

They removed their halos, and the Doctor realised they were going to use them like Oddjob’s hat in _Goldfinger._ “Arm yourself, all of you,” he shouted.

While everyone on the catwalk grabbed lengths of pipe to block the halos, the Doctor turned to Foon. “Mrs. Van Hoff, I am coming back for you. All right?”

She shrugged apathetically, but the Doctor didn’t have time to reassure her any further. He jogged down the steps to the catwalk and eased his way out, grabbing a piece of pipe to defend himself along the way.

He sent a few halos flying, but then he missed and one sliced into his arm. Rose cried out when it cut him, and the Doctor gritted his teeth and hit the next one as hard as he could.

A moment later, Mr. Copper’s loud grunt of pain indicated another hit, and Astrid collapsed in exhaustion onto the catwalk. “I can’t,” she sobbed.

The Doctor knew they couldn’t keep this up much longer, but he didn’t know what else they could do. They couldn’t give up and let the Host win. Beyond their own lives, the entire planet was at stake.

“Bannakaffalatta, stop!” the short alien ordered. “Bannakaffalatta proud. Bannakaffalatta cyborg!”

The Doctor watched in amazement as Bannakaffalatta lifted his shirt and sent out an electromagnetic pulse. The Host stopped in midair, then plummeted down to the engine core, except the one who landed on the catwalk next to the Doctor.

“Electromagnetic pulse took out the robotics. Oh, Bannakaffalatta, that was brilliant!” The Doctor spun back around just in time to watch Bannakaffalatta collapse.

Astrid crawled over to him. “He’s used all his power.”

“Did… good?” Bannakaffalatta gasped.

“Yeah, you saved us, Bannakaffalatta,” Rose said, taking his hand.

“Bannakaffalatta happy,” the alien said, his voice reedy with pain.

Astrid shook her head quickly. “We can recharge you,” she said. “Get you to a power point and just plug you in.”

“Too late.”

Tears streamed down Astrid’s face. “No, but you’ve got to get me that drink, remember?”

“Pretty girl,” Bannakaffalatta whispered, then he died.

After a moment of silence, Astrid started to button his shirt up, but Mr. Copper reached in and took the EMP transmitter. “I’m sorry. Forgive me,” he said as he reached for it.

“Leave him alone,” Astrid snapped.

“It’s the EMP transmitter,” Mr. Copper explained, holding the cylinder up. “He’d want us to use it. I used to sell these things. They’d always give me a bed for the night in the cyborg caravans. They’re good people. But if we can recharge it, we can use it as a weapon against the rest of the Host. Bannakaffalatta might have saved us all.”

“Do you think?” Rickston spat out. “Try telling him that.”

The Doctor froze for a second, then spun around. The Host that had landed behind him had recharged and was pulling itself to its feet with its halo in hand.

“Information. Reboot.”

Rickston, Astrid, and Mr. Copper all argued over the right way to take care of the Host, until Rose yelled over the top of them. “Oi! Shut it, you lot, and let the Doctor think.”

“Thank you, Rose.” The Doctor stared at the Host. There had to be some kind of… of, override or something. “Override loophole,” he tried, but the Host straightened to its full height and advanced on him. “Security protocol ten. Six-six-six. Er, twenty-one, four, five, six, seven, eight. I don’t know, forty-two?” he tried, feeling like the number that would stop the Host would indeed be the answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything.

The Host, it seemed, was not a Douglas Adams fan. It pulled the halo back to throw it.

The Doctor stared at the halo. “Er, one!”

To his stunned relief, the Host halted. “Information. State request.”

“Good. Right. You’ve been ordered to kill the survivors, but why?”

“Information. No witnesses.”

The Doctor frowned. That made no sense. “But this ship’s going to fall on the Earth and kill everyone. The human race have nothing to do with the _Titanic_ , so that contravenes your orders, yes?”

“Information. Incorrect.”

He sucked in a breath. He’d been afraid of that, but unwilling to think about the possibility that destroying the Earth wasn’t accidental. “But why do you want to destroy the Earth?”

“Information. It is the plan.”

_Well, obviously._ “What plan?”

“Information. Protocol grants you only three questions. These three questions have been used.”

The Doctor didn’t even have time to be frustrated that they hadn’t warned him of the limitation. Rose immediately stepped up beside him, and he breathed a little sigh of relief that she was here to save the day, as usual.

“Security protocol one!” she shouted, and the Host turned to her.

“Information. State request.”

“Right.” Rose rocked back on heels and nodded. “So destroying the Earth is the plan, and I reckon that means you want to cover something up, yeah?”

The Doctor blinked, then smiled slowly, feeling incredibly proud of Rose. For all that he liked to say he was the cleverest person in the room, there were so many times when she put the details together faster than he did.

“Information. Correct.”

“An’ you’ve got a boss somewhere you’re answering to, and I bet he’s on deck thirty-one.” She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes at the Host. “Am I right?”

The Doctor nodded as the Host affirmed her guess. Of course. The impact chamber.

“Information. Correct.”

Rose licked her lips and looked at the Doctor, and he realised she’d run out of questions. Her sudden impish humour surprised him, and he nearly laughed out loud when she asked her final question.

“What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?”

“Information. That question is outside my programming.”

The Doctor reached down for his pipe again when the Host raised its halo, but before either of them could strike, someone lassoed it from behind.

His eyes widened when he saw a determined-looking Foon tightening the rope around the Host’s arms. “You’re coming with me,” she growled. Foon closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then jumped over the side of the catwalk, into the engines below.

“No!” the Doctor shouted, diving for her a moment too late. Foon and the Host both disappeared into the abyss.

 


	4. And I Should Know Because...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for panic attacks in this one. It should be clear by now that this is the story where they realise they’re both suffering from PTSD. Last chapter, the Doctor had a flashback, and in this one, Rose has a panic attack.

Rose stared after the disappearing Foon, though she looked away before the woman vanished in the fire of the open engines below. Guilt and regret swamped her, and she had to swallow hard to get rid of the lump in her throat. She’d only wanted a fun party and perhaps some dancing with the Doctor; instead, they’d watched too many good people die.

The Doctor straightened slowly, and the icy rage in his eyes sent a shiver down Rose’s back. “No more,” he growled, then stalked off the catwalk. He sonicked the door as he approached it and led them out into the corridor.

Rose jogged up to run beside him, slipping her hand into his. The Doctor glanced down at her, and she could see the conflict in his eyes. _I’m staying with you,_ she told him, squeezing his hand for emphasis.

He nodded, and Rose sympathised with the way fear still mixed with his relief. Neither of them wanted to let the other out of their sight, but the knowledge that staying together meant staying in danger was hard to swallow. He let go of her hand and pressed his sonic screwdriver into it. _Give this Rickston, set to open doors. I need to show Astrid how to recharge the EMP._

The Doctor skidded to a halt and wheeled around to face the small band of survivors. “Right! Get yourself up to Reception One. Once you’re there, Mr. Copper, you’ve got staff access to the computer. Try to find a way of transmitting an SOS. Astrid, you’re in charge of this.” He held up the EMP. “Once it’s powered up, it’ll take out a Host within fifty yards, but then it needs sixty seconds to recharge. Let me show you. Where’s the power points?”

“Under the comms,” Astrid replied immediately, leading him to the nearest one.

Rose squared her shoulders and looked at her nemesis. “Rickston, come with me.” The man glared at her haughtily, but he followed her down the corridor to the nearest door. Rose held up the sonic screwdriver. “You’re going to take this and use it to open any door you come to between here and Reception, and then lock it behind you. Just press this button here,” she said, showing him.

Rickston looked down his nose at her. “Are you sure you know how to use something so sophisticated?”

Rose’s jaw dropped; she knew he was a bastard, but she’d expected his self-preservation to make him willing to accept help from anyone. Holding the Doctor’s sonic in one hand, she reached into her purse with her other and pulled out hers. “Considering I’ve got one of my own,” she drawled, “I’m pretty sure.”

He took the device from her reluctantly and stared at it for a moment. “Now stand here and wait for Mr. Copper and Astrid,” she ordered.

“All right!” Rickston held up his hands, then leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

Rose scowled at him, then turned to Mr. Copper, who still had a nasty cut on his forehead. She grabbed a first aid kit and handed it to him. “Mr. Copper, when you reach Reception One, I want you to take care of that cut, and anything else that’s hurting you. Do you understand me? We are not chasing down the villain lurking in the shadows only to have you die of an infection.”

“I—I… Yes, ma’am,” he stammered, a faint smile on his face. He took the first aid kit from her and joined Rickston, leaving Rose to join the Doctor and Astrid.

oOoOoOoOo

The Doctor ran with Astrid to the nearest comms station, and they both crouched down in front of it. He held the EMP transmitter up to it, letting it charge. “See, when it’s ready, that blue light comes on there.”

“You’re talking as if you’re not coming with us.”

A surge of anger from Rose distracted the Doctor momentarily, and he glanced at her over his shoulder. Her back was stiff, and her hand twitched at her side, like she wanted to follow her mum’s example and slap Rickston.

He shook his head and turned to Astrid. “There’s something down on deck thirty-one. Rose and I are going to find out what it is.”

“What if you meet a Host?” Astrid asked logically.

That wasn’t really an “if,” and they both knew it. The odds that he and Rose would make it to deck thirty-one _without_ meeting a Host were slim to none. The Doctor tried not to think about the ache in his arm and the damage those halos could do to Rose.

“Well, then we’ll have some fun,” he said, a flippant smile hiding his fear.

Astrid narrowed her eyes. “Sounds like you do this kind of thing all the time.”

The Doctor deflated slightly. “Not by choice. All we do is travel. That’s what we are—just travellers.” He ran a hand over his face. “But somehow, things like this happen along the way.”

Rose joined them and rested her hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, but we always make it through, don’t we?”

He took her hand and squeezed it, then looked up at her. The stubbornness he loved so much was there in her eyes and in the firm set of her jaw. Her conversation with Rickston had fired her up, he realised, and he let her sudden determination feed his own confidence.

“Yeah, we do.”

Astrid looked from him to Rose, and the Doctor could see the question in her eyes. “I’m sort of unemployed now. I was thinking the blue box is kind of small, but I could squeeze in it, like a stowaway.”

The Doctor sighed and let go of Rose’s hand. “Normally, we’d say yes in a heartbeat, Astrid. You’re exactly the kind of person we love to travel with. But…” He clenched his jaw, until Rose ran her hand through his hair, silently encouraging him to let go of the tension. “Last year was rough on us, and we really need to take some time, just the two of us.”

Astrid’s face fell, but she nodded. “I can understand that.”

An explosion rocked the ship, and the Doctor stood up and grabbed the comms. “Mr. Frame, you still with us?”

“It’s the engines, sir. Final phase. There’s nothing more I can do. We’ve got only eight minutes left.”

The Doctor leaned against the terminal and bowed his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll get there.”

“But the bridge is sealed off,” Mr. Frame protested, his voice high-pitched in fear.

“Yeah, yeah, working on it. I’ll get there, Mr. Frame, somehow.”

The EMP beeped, and Astride stood up, waving it at him.

“All charged up?” The Doctor ran to where Mr. Copper and Rickston were waiting. “Mr. Copper, look after her. Astrid, look after him.” He turned to Slade and grimaced. “Rickston, uh, look after yourself.”

Rose coughed to hide a snort, then looked at the two people they actually liked. “We’ll see you both again—we promise.”

The Doctor took her hand, and she looked up at him. “Ready, Rose Tyler?” She nodded, and he tugged her away from the trio. “Run for your life!”

For the first time in all her years of running with the Doctor, the anxiety tightening in a band around her chest made it impossible for Rose to enjoy the adrenaline rush. Instead, she focused on breathing as they crossed the catwalk again, retraced their steps through the corridor and serving station where they’d rested, and went down the stairs they’d climbed less than an hour before.

At each landmark, she remembered another way she could have lost the Doctor. What if she hadn’t been so insistent on not repairing the Host? Or what would have happened if even one of the flying halos had hit its mark? It was too easy to imagine herself in Foon’s place, staring at the engine core and trying to convince herself that her husband wasn’t gone.

_We’re going to be fine, Rose._

Her chest seized up, and Rose stumbled down the last few stairs. The Doctor caught her in his arms and put his hands on her shoulders, holding her at arm’s length and looking into her eyes.

“Breathe, love.”

Rose took a breath, but it caught in her throat on a sob. _I can’t!_

“You can, Rose.”

The Doctor closed his eyes and a moment later, Rose felt him in her mind, tugging at her anxiety, trying to get her to let go of it—or it to let go of her.

“Take a deep breath for me.”

He pressed his forehead to hers and breathed with her a few times. The gesture calmed her enough to obey his quiet command, taking one breath, and then another, until she was breathing easily.

The Doctor pulled back and brushed his thumbs against the apples of her cheeks. “All right there?” he asked tenderly.

Rose nodded and managed a shaky laugh. “I have to admit, this wasn’t what I had in mind for our evening.”

He shook his head. “Nor I. But, Rose Tyler, my partner in this crazy life we lead, I’m confident we can handle this the same way we do everything else.”

“Together,” Rose finished.

The Doctor grinned and bent down to kiss her quickly. “Exactly. Now, here’s the plan. I’m going to get the Host to take me to this shadowy villain you’ve been talking about all night. I want you to stay out of sight.”

“Doctor—”

“Let me finish, Rose.”

She sighed, but nodded her acquiescence.

“Thank you. Stay safely out of sight and follow after us. I’ve got a gut feeling that things will go better if you can take them by surprise. That’s why I gave Rickston my sonic—so you would still have yours.”

Rose studied him for a moment, then smiled. “Yeah. I like that plan,” she agreed.

“Excellent.” The Doctor held out his hand and wiggled his fingers, and she rolled her eyes and took it. “Allons-y!”

They took off running again, but as they approached a galley, the Doctor let go of her hand and held his finger to his lips. Rose nodded and concealed herself in the shadows while the Doctor stepped inside, staying in her line of vision.

As soon as he entered the room, he was surrounded by four Host. The Doctor grabbed a frying pan as the robots converged on him.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,” he said, wielding the pan as a shield and weapon both. “Security protocol one. Do you hear me? One. One!”

The Host finally stopped, and Rose drew in a breath, as quietly as possible.

“Okay,” the Doctor said, shifting his weight to the balls of his feet and turning the pan in his hands. “That gives me three questions. Three questions to save my life, am I right?”

“Information. Correct.”

Rose groaned quietly.

“No, that wasn’t one of them,” the Doctor protested. “I didn’t mean it. That’s not fair. Can I start again?”

“Information. No.”

_Doctor!_

“No! No, no, no, no. That wasn’t a question either. Blimey.”

He rubbed at his face, and Rose clenched her hands into fists. She knew he could do this, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel a little bit nervous, now that he was down to his last question.

“One question left,” he muttered. “One question. So, you’ve been given orders to kill the survivors, but survivors must therefore be passengers or staff—but not me. I’m not a passenger; I’m not staff. Go on, scan me. You must have bio-records. No such person on board. I don’t exist, therefore you can’t kill me.” He tossed the pan down on the floor and raised his eyebrows. “Therefore, I’m a stowaway, and I reckon stowaways should be arrested and taken to your authority, hiding on deck thirty-one. Final question. Am I right?”

The Doctor stared down the Host, feeling more like himself than he had all day. Solving a riddle like that? It was very him. And Rose seemed to think so too, if the approval he could sense from her said anything.

The Host cocked its head. “Information. Correct.”

“Brilliant.” He straightened up. “Take me to your leader. I’ve always wanted to say that,” he added with a giggle, feeling Rose roll her eyes at him as he did.

The Host led him to a service stairwell at the other end of the galley. From where they were on deck twenty-two, it was nine flights down to their destination. Nine flights of stairs was more than enough time for the Doctor to quickly put together everything he knew about the situation—especially the fact that this mysterious figure had control over the Host—and conclude that Rose’s original suspicion of Max Capricorn was probably accurate.

 _I’m telling you, Doctor,_ she said from two flights above him. _Only villains have a tooth that shines like that._

 _How cliche though,_ he protested. _It’s almost disappointing._

They reached deck thirty-one and one of the Host opened the door and shoved him out of the stairwell. “Oi, a bit more careful, if you don’t mind,” the Doctor said, rolling his shoulders.

Deck thirty-one was a surprise. It was an absolute wreck. Well, most of the ship was a wreck, but he got the distinct feeling that deck thirty-one had been a disaster before the collision with the meteors.

“Wow,” the Doctor commented as he stared at the fires blazing overhead. “Now that is what you call a fixer-upper. Come on then, Host with the most, this ultimate authority of yours. Who is it?”

One of the Host pushed a button, and previously hidden doors slid open.

“Oh, that’s clever. Just like I suspected—an omnistate impact chamber. Indestructible.”

A large wheeled vehicle rolled slowly through a cloud of smoke. The Doctor caught a glint of light on the bald head first, and he nodded. Max Capricorn.

“You can survive anything in there,” he continued as the owner of Max Capricorn Cruiseliners rolled into view. “Sit through a supernova, or a shipwreck. Only one person can have the power and the money to hide themselves on board like this and I should know, because—”

“My name is Max.” As Max Capricorn finished his tagline, the light glinted off his gold tooth.

“It really does that,” the Doctor muttered. Rose was equal parts disbelief and amusement.

“Who the hell is this?” Max asked the Host.

The Doctor smiled and clasped his hands behind his back. “I’m the Doctor. Hello.”

“Information. Stowaway.”

“Well…”

Before he could prevaricate—were they really stowaways?—Max nodded at the Host. “Kill him.”

The Doctor held out his hands and backed up a step. “Oh, no, no, no. Wait, but you can’t. Not now. Come on, Max.” He shot the cyborg a cheeky grin. “You’ve given me so much good material like, how to get ahead in business. See? Head? Head in business? No?”

“Oh, ho, ho, the office joker. I like a funny man.” Max’s smile disappeared and he looked almost morose. “No one’s been funny with me for years.”

“I can’t think why,” the Doctor muttered. He glanced at the life support contraption, but it was the murderous glint in the other man’s eyes that really made him unapproachable.

“A hundred and seventy-six years of running the company have taken their toll.”

The Doctor scratched at the back of his neck. “Yeah, but… nice wheels.”

“No, a life support system,” Max corrected sharply, “in a society that despises cyborgs. I’ve had to hide away for years, running the company by hologram. Host, situation report.”

“Information. _Titanic_ is still in orbit.”

“Let me see.”

Max’s life support system rolled forward, and the Doctor and a Host got out of the way.

“We should have crashed by now,” he said as he approached the edge looking over at the engines. “What’s gone wrong? The engines are still running! They should have stopped!”

The Doctor looked at the engines, then at Max. There was still one piece missing, even though Rose had figured out that they wanted to hide something. But why destroy the planet? “When they do, the Earth gets roasted. I don’t understand. What’s the Earth got to do with it?”

“This interview is terminated,” Max said angrily, then rolled away.

“No. No, no, no, no, no.” The Doctor chased after the cyborg. “Hold on, hold on, hold on. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.” Max Capricorn stopped moving and looked at the Doctor with an eyebrow raised. “I can work it out. It’s like a task. I’m your apprentice. Just watch me. So, business is failing and you wreck the ship so that makes things even worse. Oh, yes! No. Yes. The business isn’t failing; it’s _failed_. Past tense.”

Max Capricorn stared at him, his jaw clenched. “My own board voted me out. Stabbed me in the back.”

“If you had a back.”

Rose pressed her lips together to stifle her laughter. She’d crept around the room while the Doctor finished working out the real story. Max Capricorn sounded like he had nothing to lose, which meant the chances the Doctor could reason with him were very slim. She needed to find a way to stop him.

The Doctor continued his guessing game. “So, you scupper the ship, wipe out any survivors just in case anyone’s rumbled you, and the board find their shares halved in value.”

He paused, and Rose peeked around the forklift she was lurking behind to watch him.

“Oh, but that’s not enough,” the Doctor realised, disgust making his voice quiet. “No. Because if a Max Capricorn ship hits the Earth, it destroys an entire planet. Outrage back home. Scandal! The business is wiped out.”

Max rolled forward. “And the whole board thrown in jail for mass murder.”

The glee in his voice made Rose sick to her stomach. She needed to stop him. Martha was on that planet, and Jack, and Shareen and Keisha… Almost everyone she knew and loved lived on Earth.

“While you sit there, safe inside the impact chamber,” the Doctor said in a low voice.

“I have men waiting to retrieve me from the ruins and enough off-world accounts to retire me to the beaches of Penhaxico Two, where the ladies, so I’m told, are very fond of metal.”

 _Ewww,_ Rose said as she mentally went through the list of settings she knew on her sonic screwdriver, smacking it against her hand when she couldn’t think of a single one that would help. She thunked her head against the forklift, then got an idea.

_Doctor, is there a setting on the sonic that would turn it into a remote control?_

_42b. Point it at the control panel, and it’ll transfer the control of the device to you._

“So that’s the plan. A retirement plan,” the Doctor spat out. “Two thousand people on this ship, six billion underneath us, all of them slaughtered, and why? Because Max Capricorn is a loser.”

“I never lose,” Max hissed.

“You can’t even sink the _Titanic_ ,” the Doctor countered.

“Oh, but I can, Doctor. I can cancel the engines from here.”

An alarm buzzed through the ship as the engines cut out, and Rose bit her lip. _Come on, come on!_ Rose ordered her sonic, willing it to speed up. When she’d come up with her plan, she’d thought it was maybe a little extreme, but if Max Capricorn had shut down the engines, then killing him was the only way to save the Doctor, and the Earth.

“You can’t do this!” the Doctor yelled, just as Rose’s sonic lit up, indicating she had control of the forklift.

“Host, hold him,” Max ordered.

Rose peered around the forklift and snarled at the sight of two Host dragging the Doctor away from Max Capricorn. She no longer cared if her plan was overkill. Max had used up all the second chances he was going to get.

“Not so clever now, Doctor,” Max taunted. “A shame we couldn’t work together. You’re rather good. All that banter, yet not a word wasted. Time for me to retire. The _Titanic_ is falling. The sky will burn. Let the Christmas inferno commence. Oh. Oh, Host,” he sang out. “Kill him.”

“Oi, Max!” Rose shouted as the Host removed their halos.

Every head swivelled around to look at Rose, and she started the forklift up and drove it directly at Max.

“You look a little stuck,” she told him as the forks caught under his life support system. “Mind if I give you a lift?” Max frowned, and the engines on his little scooter box revved, keeping him in place.

“Rose, duck!” the Doctor yelled, and she dodged just in time to avoid being hit by a halo.

She grunted when she hit the deck and rolled, but held onto her sonic screwdriver. However, her momentary distraction had allowed Max to inch forward, pushing against the forklift.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Rose thumbed the controls, lifting the forks. His eyes, one blue and the other glassy and sightless, widened when he realised he’d lost. Rose pressed her lips into a tight smile. “Mr. Capricorn!” she yelled. “I hope you have a nice trip.”

One more push of the button sent both the forklift and Max Capricorn over the edge, down to the engines below. As soon as he disappeared from view, the Host let the Doctor go, and he ran to Rose.

“You were _brilliant_ ,” he enthused, grabbing her and spinning her around. “But are you all right? You didn’t get hurt at all?”

“I’m fine, Doctor,” Rose assured him as the computer announced that the ship was still falling from orbit. “But shouldn’t we take care of that?”

“We should,” he agreed, “and as it happens, I’ve figured out how we’re getting to the bridge.”

He let go of Rose, and she watched him stride through the wreckage into the middle of the room. His tux was dusty and worn, but with the explosions going off behind him, he looked absolutely in control of the situation.

The Doctor stopped once he was clear of the debris and snapped his fingers. Two Host stepped forward and took his arms, then the Doctor arched an eyebrow at Rose.

“What?” she asked as she walked over to him.

“Hold on, Rose Tyler. Tonight, we’re flying with the angels.”

Rose rolled her eyes, but wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. As soon as she had a solid grip on him, the Host took off, flying them upwards with their arms raised up to punch through the deck of the bridge.

When she realised what they were going to do, Rose ducked her head against the Doctor’s chest for protection. Some debris still rained down on her, but none landed in her eyes, at least.

The Doctor cheered when the computer announced that the deadlock was broken. “Ah, Midshipman Frame. At last,” he said as he climbed through the hole the Host had broken in the floor.

“Er, but, but the Host,” Mr. Frame said, panicking.

Rose put a hand on his shoulder and encouraged him to sit down, and the Doctor remembered he’d been badly injured.

“Controller dead, they divert to the next highest authority, and that’s me,” the Doctor explained while he examined the ship’s controls.

“There’s nothing we can do,” Mr. Frame said while Rose tugged his coat off and ripped open his shirt to get at the gaping wound in his side. “There’s no power. The ship’s going to fall.”

“Calm down, Mr. Frame,” Rose told him as she ran gentle hands around the edge of the wound, testing to see if it was still bleeding. “Hmmm, what’s your first name?” she asked as the Doctor grabbed onto the wheel.

“Alonso.”

The Doctor’s eyes widened, and he could hear Rose trying to hide her laughter as she tore a strip off Alonso’s shirt and used it as a bandage.

“You’re kidding me,” the Doctor breathed, staring at the young man.

“What?” Alonso Frame said, obviously confused.

“That’s something else I’ve always wanted to say. Allons-y, Alonso. Whoa!”

He turned the wheel hard, pulling them up so their trajectory would come in at the right angle for re-entry to start the engines up. It got hot on the bridge with the shields down, but the hyperplex glass was enough to keep them from being incinerated, even if it couldn’t keep them truly comfortable.

“Rose!” the Doctor yelled, and she stumbled to his side as they entered the upper atmosphere. “Turn the scanner on.”

She did, and they both looked down at a familiar map. “That’s the City of Westminster, Doctor,” Rose said.

“I know,” he grunted as he reached for the horn and dialled to get an operator. “Oh. Hello, yes. Could you get me Buckingham Palace?”

He waited patiently while she transferred him to the palace operator, but as soon as he knew there was a live person on the other end of the phone, he barked out his warning. “Listen to me. Security code 771. Now get out of there!” he ordered, then dropped the phone.

They continued their nosedive to the planet’s surface, and Rose gasped when their destination became clear. “Doctor! We’re going to _run straight into the Palace._ ”

“I know,” he said through gritted teeth. “I hope this works…”

As he voiced his hope, the computer said, “Engines active. Engines active.”

The Doctor pulled back hard on the wheel, leaning all his weight against the stick, hoping it would be enough to pull the ship up.

“We’re gonna make it, Doctor!” Rose cheered. “Talk about a close call, though. I can see the Palace, and the Mall, and… is that… Blimey! The Queen is down there, waving to us! Some footman is with her, holding one of her corgis.”

The Doctor grinned at Rose as the _Titanic_ began its slow return to space. “Wouldn’t want the dogs to be injured if the Palace collapsed, would we?” He spun the wheel and laughed as the euphoria rushed through him.

Rose ran to him and wrapped one arm around his neck. He tilted his head, and she kissed him on the cheek with a loud smacking sound. “We made it,” she murmured in his ear.

Now that they were headed back into space, he could handle the wheel with one hand, and he wrapped the other arm around Rose, holding her close. “Yeah, we did,” he answered as he brushed a kiss against her temple.

Alonso whooped as they left the atmosphere, and the Doctor grinned at him when the sailor rang the ship’s bell in celebration. A framed portrait of Max “My name is Max” Capricorn fell off the wall and landed in a small fire that was still burning. The three of them looked at that symbolic end and cheered.

The midshipman grimaced, and the Doctor quickly set a course that would put them in orbit around the planet before stepping away from the wheel. “Let’s have a look at that wound, Alonso,” he said. Rose handed him her sonic screwdriver, and he blinked down at it for a moment before remembering that Rickston still had his.

Alonso slumped on a seat and let the Doctor peel back the bandage Rose had put on his gunshot wound. The Doctor checked the young man’s back and breathed a sigh of relief when he found an exit wound. “Good, the bullet went all the way through you.” He scanned the injury with the sonic, and smiled when the results came back. “And it isn’t infected yet. You’ll want to get it sewn up as soon as a rescue vehicle comes for you, but you’ll live.”

He retied the bandage, and Alonso stood up cautiously. He smiled when he could put his weight on his right foot. “Thank you, Doctor, and you too, Rose.”

“Nah, don’t mention it.” He returned Rose’s sonic to her, and they all leaned against the wall and slid down until they were sitting on the floor.

Alonso looked over at him. “You did it, Doctor, just like you promised. But how?”

“Used the heat of re-entry to fire up the secondary storm drive. Unsinkable, that’s me.”

Rose snorted. “You and Molly Brown.”

The Doctor shook his head. “Nah, I’m unsinkable, but Maggie Brown—that’s what her friends called her—she was indomitable. An incredible lady.”

The horn whistled before he could launch into the story of how he’d met the famous American. The Doctor jumped to his feet and picked it up.

“Hello, you’ve reached the bridge of the _Titanic_. Our speciality is narrowly averting disasters. How can we help you?”

“Doctor!” Astrid sighed loudly. “We didn’t know if you and Rose both made it.”

The Doctor grinned and bounced on his toes. “Oh yes, Astrid Peth. We made it, and so did Midshipman Frame. Tell you what—we’ll come down and join you.”


	5. To Be With My Love

Twenty minutes later, they were in Reception One with Mr. Copper, Astrid, and Rickston Slade. Rose tapped her toes on the fancy carpeted floor; now that the danger was over, she just wanted to be _home_.

Alonso joined them, walking much more easily than he had before Rose had patched him up. “The engines have stabilised. We’re holding steady till we get help, and I’ve sent the SOS. A rescue ship should be here within twenty minutes. And they’re digging out the records on Max Capricorn. It should be quite a story.”

Mr. Copper sighed and pursed his lips. “They’ll want to talk to all of us, I suppose.”

“I’d have thought so, yeah.” Alonso blinked and a small furrow appeared on his brow when that was obviously not the answer anyone had hoped for.

Astrid linked her arm through Mr. Copper’s. “I’ll tell them how you helped save everyone,” she promised. “We’ll make sure you don’t go to jail.”

Mr. Copper shook his head. “That’s very kind of you, but it’s my own fault.” He shrugged. “Ten years in jail is better than dying.”

Rickston Slade approached them, a nearly tearful look on his face. He handed the Doctor’s sonic back and then said, “Doctor, I never said thank you.”

The Doctor stood stock still while Rickston pulled him into a tight hug, and Rose had to put her hand over her mouth to hide her smile at the nonplussed look on his face.

“The funny thing is,” Rickston commented as he released the Doctor and stepped back, “I said Max Capricorn was falling apart. Just before the crash, I sold all my shares, transferred them to his rivals. It’s made me rich. What do you think of that?”

Rose’s anger with the wealthy businessman finally boiled over. “I’ll tell you what I think, Harry,” she snarled. “I think you’re a self-centred, egotistical bastard who needs to learn that other people matter just as much as you do. People _died_ today, and all you can think about is your bank account. What kind of cold, heartless…” She growled incoherently, gesturing in the air.

Rickston narrowed his eyes, and Rose welcomed his attack. She wouldn’t hold back.

“Who’s Harry?” he asked.

“What?” Rose’s knees locked and she swayed dangerously.

The Doctor wrapped an arm around her waist before she could fall. “Rickston, don’t you have a phone call or something to make? Blood money to celebrate?”

The businessman crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head, but his vone went off before he could argue. With one last glare at the Doctor and Rose, he walked a few steps away from them to take the call.

Rose blinked furiously, trying to hold tears back. “I…”

“You called him Harry, love,” the Doctor said quietly. He pulled her close and she rested her head on his chest, letting his double heartbeat soothe her.

The events of the day played back in Rose’s mind, each time Rickston had belittled her or been rude and unpleasant and self-centred. She closed her eyes tightly, but that couldn’t stop the memories, or the tears that seeped out from under her eyelids.

The Doctor pressed a kiss to the top of her head. _I’m sorry, Rose. I should have realised why you were reacting so strongly to him._

 _He’s a wanker,_ she countered immediately. _I would’ve hated him no matter what._

_Yes, I know… but I could tell how much he upset you, and I never thought to ask why. I’m sorry._

Rose took a series of deep breaths. “Not your fault, Doctor,” she mumbled when she could talk again. “You couldn’t have done anything to stop it. I mean, what were you going to do? Give Rickston charm lessons?”

They both chuckled weakly, and that seemed to be the indicator Astrid and Mr. Copper were waiting for that it was safe to approach.

“Of all the people to survive, he’s not one you would have chosen, is he?” Mr. Copper said.

Rose thought about Morvin and Foon and Bannakaffalatta, and shook her head.

“But if you could choose,” he continued, “if you could decide who lives and who dies, that would make you a monster.”

Rose looked up at the Doctor. _We can’t leave him here to face the police. He deserves better._

The Doctor nodded, then let go of Rose and stepped over to the teleport station. “Mr. Copper, I think you deserve one of these.” He held up three bracelets and handed one to Mr. Copper, leaving one for himself and Rose.

Astrid looked forlorn as he used the sonic to set the teleport coordinates to lock onto the TARDIS’ location. “I suppose that leaves me to go back to Sto on my own… go back to my old life, serving tables.”

Rose bit her lip, then reached into the purse she’d somehow managed to keep hold of, despite the utter disaster the night had been. “I’ve got a credit stick, Astrid. It’s got ten million credits on it. You can travel, or go to school, or buy yourself a spaceship and learn how to fly it.”

Astrid’s eyes widened and her lips parted. “You… but… I can’t take that much money from you!”

Rose smiled. “It’s okay, Astrid. We’re stowaways more because of personal preference than financial need.” She pressed the credit stick into Astrid’s hand. “Go on, take it.”

The Doctor grinned when the waitress launched herself at Rose, nearly toppling both women to the floor. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she chanted. “Oh, you won’t regret it. I promise, I’ll do something good with this. Something meaningful.”

Rose hugged her back, then let go of her and moved to stand with the Doctor. “I know you will. That’s why I gave it to you.”

She slid her teleport bracelet on over her wrist and took the Doctor’s hand. Alonso saluted them as the Doctor hit the button, and Rose waved goodbye to him as they disappeared.

“Oh, excellent,” the Doctor breathed when they materialised on Hampstead Heath. London was spread out before them, and the TARDIS stood waiting, only fifty feet away.

Snowflakes fluttered down from the sky, and he felt Rose shiver. He quickly shrugged out of his dinner jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“Come on,” he said, pointing to the ship. “That’s where we’re going.” Rose linked her arm through his, and they led the way, with Mr. Copper following behind them.

“So, Great Britain is part of Europey,” Mr. Copper recited, “and just across the British Channel, you’ve got Great France and Great Germany.”

Rose giggled. “France and Germany,” she corrected. “Only Britain is Great.”

The Doctor chuckled and nudged her with his elbow. _Rude,_ he teased.

Mr. Copper prattled on, heedless of their private conversation. “Oh, and they’re all at war with the continent of Ham Erica.”

“No. Well, not yet.” The Doctor scratched at his neck. “Er, could argue that one.”

They reached the TARDIS, and he patted the blue box. “There she is. Survive anything.”

Mr. Copper nodded uncomprehendingly, then looked up at the sky. “You know, between you and me, I don’t even think this snow is real. I think it’s the ballast from the _Titanic_ ’s salvage entering the atmosphere.”

The Doctor sighed and looked up at the sky. “Yeah. One of these days it might snow for real.” He looked at Mr. Copper, who took a deep breath and nodded a couple of times.

“So, I, I suppose you’ll be off.”

“Yeah.” Rose squeezed the Doctor’s hand, and he knew their earlier plans of having Christmas dinner with a friend were cancelled. “It’s where we belong.”

Mr. Copper blinked up at them. “And, what about me?”

“I’ve got an idea,” Rose said. “Hang on a minute.” She unlocked the TARDIS and slipped inside, leaving the Doctor staring somewhat awkwardly at Mr. Copper.

He thought about what Rose had done for Astrid and held out his hand. “Give me that credit card.”

Mr. Copper handed it over. “It’s just petty cash. Spending money. It’s all done by computer. I didn’t really know the currency, so I thought a million might cover it.”

The Doctor looked up at him and blinked. “A million? Pounds?”

“That enough for trinkets?” Mr. Copper asked innocently.

A slow smile crossed the Doctor’s face. “Mr. Copper, a million pounds is worth _fifty_ million credits.”

“How… how much?” Mr. Copper stammered. He shook his head a few times, like he’d heard wrong.

The Doctor pressed his tongue to the back of his teeth and did the actual maths. “Fifty million and… fifty-six.”

The older man blinked rapidly in surprise, and to keep the ash from getting into his eyes. “I’ve got money.”

The Doctor handed the card to him. “Yes, you have.”

“Oh, my word. Oh, my Vot! Oh, my goodness me. Yeah hah!” he shouted, waving the card in the air.

“It’s all yours.” The Doctor waved his arms expansively. “Planet Earth. Now, that’s a retirement plan. But just you be careful, though.”

“I will, I will.” Mr. Copper danced a few steps. “Oh, I will.”

Rose finally reappeared, her phone to her ear. “Great, thank you, Jack. Yeah, that’s right. Hampstead Heath, on Christmas Day at…” A frown wrinkled her forehead as she considered. “Seven at night.” There was a pause, and she glanced at the Doctor before shaking her head. “No, I think we’ll take off. It’s… it’s only been two weeks for us.”

The Doctor’s hearts clenched at the weariness in her voice. He should have insisted they rest when she asked to go to the party. Of course, then the Earth would have been destroyed when the nuclear storm drive exploded on impact, so he grudgingly admitted this was important.

_But no more. We’re going to take a proper rest._

He almost missed Rose snapping her phone shut and putting it in his jacket pocket. “There, that’s settled. Mr. Copper, a friend of ours will be here in a few minutes. His name is Jack, and he’s going to help you get a new life set up here on Earth.”

Mr. Copper nodded eagerly. “I can have a house. A proper house, with a garden, and a door, and…” He impulsively stepped forward and hugged the Doctor, then stepped back and bowed slightly to Rose. “Oh, Doctor, I will make you proud. And you too, Rose.”

Rose smiled. “I’m sure you will,” she agreed. “We’re going to be off now, all right? You just wait here for Jack. Good-looking bloke, usually wears a navy blue greatcoat.”

The older man was still practically vibrating in excitement. “I will. I’ll wait right here.”

The Doctor pushed open the TARDIS door and let Rose go inside first. He turned around before closing the door behind them and smiled one last time at the Earthonomics specialist.

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Copper.”

oOoOoOoOo

Rose was already circling the console, adjusting the controls so they could return to the Vortex. The Doctor pulled off his tie and shoved it into his trouser pocket as he watched her turn the last dial and flip the lever.

Her hands were shaking when she dropped them back to her sides, and he took a step towards her. “Rose?” he asked softly, but she shook her head quickly, and he stopped.

“Not quite the party I thought it was going to be.” She clenched her fingers around the ruined velvet gown.

He could feel her mind racing, but the tumbling thoughts were too fast and chaotic for him to catch onto. “What’s wrong, love?”

She tugged at a hole in the red chiffon. “I’m… I need to get changed.”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, and she sighed.

“I’ll just go… go to the wardrobe room and change out of this dress, and then… then I’ll feel better.”

“Why don’t you come change in our room, love?” the Doctor suggested gently. “We’ll get into our pjs and make chips for dinner, then we can put a holiday movie on and relax for a few hours.”

She was already halfway to the corridor, and she stopped to look back at him. “I’m all right,” she mumbled, then left the room before he could say anything else.

The Doctor was even more worried now, but he sighed and grabbed his dinner jacket from where Rose had draped it over the back of the jump seat, instead of chasing after her. She was obviously not all right, but if she wanted a moment alone, he would respect that.

He went to their room and started undressing, but he’d barely got his shirt unbuttoned when the swell of Rose’s panic rushed up. He tried to reach for her, to calm her as he ran through the corridors to the wardrobe room, but she was too deep in the clutches of the panic attack to respond.

The TARDIS corridors kept changing as he ran, and finally, he skidded to a halt and glared up at the ceiling, his hands clutching his hair. “Rose needs me,” he spat out. “I can feel her, but I can’t get to her, and the last time that happened, the Master made me think she was dead for three months. So let me get to the bloody wardrobe room!”

The lights flashed at him and the ship hummed.

“What do you mean, she’s not in the wardrobe room?”

A door appeared in front of him, one he’d ran past three times already. The Doctor hesitated for a bare second, then turned the knob and pushed it open.

He blinked when bright sunlight streamed into the corridor, but Rose’s presence was calling to him now, very close at hand. That made it simple to push aside his surprise and jog through the orchard, following the pull of the bond.

When he spotted her on the ground, sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees as she rocked herself back and forth, his own panic threatened to take hold. He forced himself to take a deep breath before getting down on the ground with her.

“Rose?” he whispered, wanting her to know he was there before he touched her. “I’m right here, love.”

He put his hand on her shoulder, and a second later, she flung herself at him, climbing into his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. Her entire body was shaking, and the Doctor pressed a kiss to her forehead as he carefully moved back so he was leaning against a tree.

“Shhh, love. I’ve got you,” he whispered, repeating it over and over as she sobbed in his arms.

It took ten minutes to calm her enough that he wasn’t worried about her hyperventilating, and another ten before she could actually speak.

Finally, she took a shuddering breath and nestled her face into the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from crying. “I just… I wanted…”

She swallowed hard and squeezed closer to him. The Doctor tightened his arms around her and dropped a kiss on the crown of her head. “You have nothing to apologise for, Rose,” he promised.

“I should have… I wanted…” She shook her head and let her sentence dangle unfinished.

“You wanted what?” The Doctor pulled back and wiped the tears from her cheeks with his shirttail, leaving a black trail of mascara behind. He rubbed carefully at that until her face was clean, then gave her a gentle nudge over the bond, reminding her that he’d asked a question.

Rose closed her eyes, and a moment later her emotions finally calmed enough that the Doctor could really grasp what she was feeling: inadequacy, a need to prove herself, and a desperate desire to have their old life back.

“Rose.” The Doctor sighed and ran his hands through her hair as he looked for the right words. “I don’t… you are good enough. You’re… you’re…” He floundered for the words to tell her how amazing he thought she was, and she jumped into the silence and started to ramble.

“But I’m not,” she said. “I can’t even handle a simple trip like this. I’m just a silly human girl, Doctor. I don’t even…”

Her mouth snapped shut, but the complete thought rang clearly over the bond.

_I don’t even know why you bonded with me._

The Doctor gaped down at her, feeling like he’d been hit in the gut. “What… where is this coming from?”

Rose tried to shift out of his lap, but he held onto her. “Rose, please. Talk to me.”

She sighed and looked at him again. “The Master used to… he pointed out, more than once, that I’m not good enough for you. Not clever enough, not… Time Lord enough.”

Memories leaked out over the bond, memories of all the times the Master had called her a hybrid, or taunted her for human weaknesses like needing sleep.

The Doctor closed his eyes and clenched his jaw so hard it ached. A moment later, he felt Rose’s soft fingers stroke along his jawline, and he opened his eyes.

“Calm down, love,” she whispered. “It’s not worth getting that upset over.”

“Like hell it isn’t,” he ground out. “It… Rose, _you_ are always worth getting upset over.”

She flushed and looked away, and the Doctor sighed. “Obviously, we need to talk, but do you think we could get changed and find someplace comfortable to sit first?” He squirmed. “The bark is scratchy, and I think there’s something poking into my bum.”

“You think?” Rose teased as she climbed off his lap and stood up. “You mean something might be poking you in the bum, but you’re not sure?”

The Doctor jumped to his feet and brushed at his trousers. “Well, it could have been something biting me,” he pointed out.

“True.”

The light banter was comfortable and familiar, but the Doctor could sense her melancholy beneath the surface. He thought about her lingering insecurities while they changed, forming rebuttals for each one.

The study door was open and they could see fire crackling invitingly, so once they’d changed, they moved to the cosy room. The Doctor sat down on the coffee table instead of on the couch beside Rose. She looked from the couch to him, and he shrugged.

“I want to be able to see your face while we’re talking.”

Rose sighed. “Can’t we just… cuddle?” she said. “I was being silly; that’s all.”

The Doctor took her hands. “You weren’t being silly, Rose,” he told her seriously. “And we can’t ignore it. We’ve been ignoring our year on the _Valiant_ for two weeks, and that obviously isn’t working out very well.”

“But it was,” Rose insisted.

“Really?” the Doctor asked doubtfully. “Because between our nightmares and what happened tonight, I think it’s pretty clear ignoring it isn’t working at all.”

Rose bit her lip and looked away, and he sighed. This would be a much more difficult conversation to have if she didn’t cooperate, and he felt a quick burst of sympathy for anyone who had ever tried to get him to talk about things.

He debated for a moment before choosing one key point to start with. “Like most Time Lords, the Master was a xenophobic twat,” he said bluntly. “You tease me for talking about my superior biology and my ego, but most Time Lords were far, far worse. Remember, I left Sarah Jane behind on Earth because humans weren’t _allowed_ on Gallifrey.”

Rose looked up at him then. “Yeah, but you didn’t marry Sarah Jane,” she pointed out. “Human friends are one thing, but a human wife…”

He squeezed her hands. “No, I didn’t marry Sarah Jane, because I didn’t love her the way I love you. Stop that,” he chided gently when she gnawed on her lip again. “And I asked you to marry me before we knew you were Time Lord at all, so that bit about not being “Time Lord enough” to be bonded to is just nonsense, all right?”

Rose’s mouth dropped open. “I’d forgotten that,” she admitted.

“I’m not surprised,” the Doctor said. “The Master was very good at manipulation, and he wanted you to feel like you were less than what you are.”

“But…” Rose pulled her hands away from his and twisted them together. “What am I, Doctor?”

The Doctor studied her for a moment while he formulated his answer. She was watching him, her face drawn tight with a little furrow between her eyebrows. He reached out and smoothed it away, then brushed his knuckles over her cheekbone.

“You are Rose Tyler. You’re part human, part Time Lord, and the best of each. You’re from the Powell Estate in the London borough of Southwark. You’re twenty-four years old, and you’re the woman who’s saved so many lives.” Rose’s mouth hung open in an O, and the Doctor took a deep breath. “You’re the woman who’s saved _my_ life, more times than I can count. And you’re my partner, my bond mate, and the love of my lives.”

“Oh.”

Her tiny, stunned response broke the tension, and the Doctor smiled and moved across to sit beside her. Rose curled into his side and he ran his hand through her hair absently while he looked for the right words to share the next thought on his mind.

“Doctor?” Rose tapped his knee, and he looked down at her.

“I think we need to take some time off from the running,” he told her. “We keep telling people that we’re just travellers; let’s just _be_ travellers. No danger; no running.”

Rose was already shaking her head. “No, we don’t… I can… that’s not…” She sighed, then licked her lips and started over. “I’m okay,” she promised him. “This was only a… a temporary hangup.”

“You’re not okay, love,” the Doctor said softly.

“No no, you can’t do this to me,” she insisted. “I’m not weak.”

The Doctor briefly wished there were a way to bring the Master back to life long enough to curse him for playing so expertly on all of Rose’s insecurities. Then he focused back on the conversation and his bond mate.

“Weakness has nothing to do with it,” he told her. “And I’m not suggesting this only for your sake, Rose. We were traumatised—both of us.”

“Yeah, but you’re not the one having panic attacks,” Rose argued.

“Really? Did you miss the way I froze when Morvin died?” The Doctor swallowed. “I think we both have a bit of PTSD,” he told her quietly. “We both had flashbacks tonight, for sure. Earlier, when I could tell you were upset, I was so desperate to get to you that I couldn’t even follow the bond to find you. I actually stopped in the middle of the corridor to yell at the TARDIS, even though she’d tried three times to lead me to the room you were in.”

“I wish I hadn’t insisted we go on the _Titanic_ ,” Rose said as she leaned her head against his shoulder. “We could’ve stayed home, had a perfectly nice evening in.”

The TARDIS was clearly in favour of the new plan to take it easy, and the Doctor had been trying to figure out why she had taken them to the _Titanic_ if she thought they needed a break. Rose’s mumbled words finally gave him a possible answer.

“Yeah,” he agreed as he tilted his head, resting it against hers. “But I think… I think we needed to go through something like this to be convinced that we needed time off.” Rose hummed, and though it sounded noncommittal, he could tell she agreed at least halfway.

They stayed like that for several minutes, then Rose shifted and looked up at the Doctor. “You mentioned a film,” she said.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “I did.” He stood up and held out his hand, and Rose let him pull her to her feet. “What are you in the mood for?”

“I think… _White Christmas_ ,” she said as they walked to the media room.

“Original, or thirty-first century remake?”

Rose wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, you know how I feel about the remake,” she whined.

He tapped her on the nose. “I do, but I love the way you scowl when I mention it.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Do you think if we asked, the TARDIS would make us peppermint hot chocolate?”

The lights in the corridor flashed, and the Doctor chuckled. “I think she would do almost anything you asked tonight.”

They paused in the doorway to the media room, the movie already queued up and two steaming mugs of cocoa on the table. “Doctor?” Rose tugged on the hem of her pyjama top.

“Yeah?”

“We’re going to be okay, aren’t we?”

His smile slipped away, and he wrapped his arms around her. “Oh, Rose. We are going to be more than okay—we are going to be fantastic.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It’s going to take some time, that’s all.”


End file.
